Post Dated Cloyce

We have had a lot of interesting individuals come through our Shop door over the years. Some, you had trouble getting money out of them. Not all of those guys were out to con you, though.

One fella in particular, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, has been on open account for better than forty years now. He's slow to pay but he always, eventually, pays. He's a genuinely good guy too. I think he's just undisciplined, kinda the way a kid is undisciplined. The kid means well yet doesn't quite understand how things should work.

A habit of Cloyce's has been to bring a check to pay his bill but then post date it. "Can you hold this for a week, Bill?" he would ask me Pops on presentation of a scrap of at that point worthless paper. And Dad would hold it, knowing that it would be good sometime within the next three weeks.

He's done that to me too. I deal with it because I know Cloyce means well, and also because I genuinely like him. As I say, it's not unfair to say he's almost confusedly childlike in his approach to life. There's a part of me which finds that quaint, or even endearing. I mean that.

Still, getting paid is why we work. Back in September Cloyce came in and gave me a post dated check, asking me to hold it for a few days. I said yes but added, "You know, Cloyce, paying me today with a check I can't cash today isn't really paying me today." Cloyce nodded, and I could almost see that light bulb above his head trying to brighten beyond dim.

Cloyce stopped by the old barn last week to pay his current bill. He wrote out a check. "Look, Marty, I dated it today," he showed me.

"Great, Cloyce, thanks," I replied.

He then asked, "Can you hold it until Tuesday?"

Cue the sad trombone. Yes, I can hold it until then. I actually wonder whether that's his way of making himself pay me, to know in his own mind that a check is out there that he has to, some day, honor. Whatever the reason, I'll surely have my money later next week.

Checkpoint

"One thing about my checks. They're always good."

That might be the worst sentence I hear in sales. And it was spoken to me a few days ago as I was given a significant check.

Maybe I'm just paranoid. I had no actual reason to suspect the check is not good. The man who gave it to me has been a customer for around 10 years. Yet before today he always paid cash (which is certainly nice) or with a credit card (which of course I could run immediately). Then I agree to take a check, and his reassurance was not reassuring.

It seems as though every time meself or me Pops before me heard those or similar words we'd have trouble with the check which was always good. Oh, I'm sure not every time. But admit it, when a guy has to make it a point to tell you their check is good it actually makes it suspect. I had already essentially agreed that I trusted his check. After that point, why must he assure me it's good? He even went to the point of showing me that his address was on the check. O-kay. Why would I not expect that?

I was sure the check was good. But I ran it down to the bank right away just the same.

It was good by the way.

Marty's Two Cents

I have literally never, ever had someone give me their two cents worth. It never happened to me. Until yesterday.

In my snail mail was an envelope from the Detroit Medical Center which, from the outside, sure looked like a check. Curious as to what it could be about, I of course opened it, to discover that it was indeed a check made out to me for two cents.

There's no explanation other than 'Refund for Cosgriff, Charles'. The pay line proudly proclaims: ZERO dollars and TWO cents. There's a reference number, but I have no idea what that could mean. I'm not told which doctor I overpaid, or for what service I was so egregiously overcharged. Still, I'm two cents richer. Maybe I'll go to Europe or take a cruise. Honey, we won't lose the house after all.

Anyway, I must hurry to the bank. I only have 180 days to cash it or it becomes invalid.

No. Just, No

A recent customer tried to use his credit card to make a purchase. It wouldn't go through.

He tried another card. It would not go through either.

His third card wouldn't work. "Would you take my check?" he asked.

Uh, no.  I'm not even sure I can take your cash now.

Unassuring assurance

"One thing about my checks. They're always good."

That might be the worst sentence I hear in sales, and I hear it with some frequency. It was spoken to me again recently as I was given a significant check.

Maybe I'm just paranoid. I had no actual reason to suspect the check was not good. The man who gave it to me has been a customer for around 10 years. Yet before today he always paid cash (which is certainly nice) or with a credit card (which of course I could run immediately). Then he gives me his first check, and his reassurance was not reassuring.

It seems as though every time myself or Pops before me heard those or similar words we'd have trouble with the check which was always good. Oh, I'm sure not every time. But admit it, when a body has to make it a point to tell you their check is good it actually makes it suspect. I had already agreed, by strong indication in saying I would take it, that I trust his check. After that point, why must he assure me it's good? He even went to the point of showing me that his address was on the check. O-kay. Why would I not expect that?

By the way, the check was good. I ran it down to the bank right away just to know.