“I’ve just has some prime beachfront property open up. I’ve got a quaint one-bedroom bungalow on a cozy property that faces on the ocean…” Gilly had been one of the best realtors in the business. She could sell anything to anyone and had, at one point or another, sold everything.
That was Before.
“It’s in Tuscon. Hello? Hello? Damnit.” Gilly hung up and dialed the next number. “Sarah! Hi. I’ve got an adorable little beach front place down in Tuscon… Damnit.”
By six p.m., Gilly was just about to throw in the towel. It wasn’t her fault that it was the oldest scam in the book. It wasn’t her fault the ocean had devoured Central America. It wasn’t her fault she was stuck trying to sell… yes… oceanfront property in Arizona.
“And if you’ll buy that,” she finally added in desperation, “I’ll throw the Golden Gate in free.”
if you’ll buy that.
[Chorus:]
I got some ocean front property in Arizona.
From my front porch you can see the sea.
Ocean Front Property, George Strait
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Surely it’s in the newspapers?
Maybe? But people still doubt.