The Same Mistake Twice

Many types of people, both male and female, populate the domestic oil industry but none of them saints. During my tenure in the business, I have met many of its denizens but the most colorful of all was a person named Harold - not his real name.

Harold, an OJT geophysicist that had found a billion (I'm not exaggerating!) barrel oil field in Nigeria for Mobil Oil. He was quite seriously, one of smartest persons I have ever met. Unfortunately, he had a larcenous side.

Anne and I had a company in bankruptcy when Harold showed up on our doorstep, his own oil Company and sixteen-hundred acre Texas ranch in foreclosure. He parked his old Mercury (the only vehicle he had left) in our driveway and proceeded to move into our spare bedroom where he stayed for about two months.

During the time that he lived with us, Harold drank every drop of liquor in the house, became engaged to a woman he somehow met in the interim, and talked to our creditor's committee, telling them we were incompetent and needed replacing as debtors-in-possession. When I heard what he had done, I hung him out the second story window by his heel, threatening to let go.

"I don't really care how you treat people that you don't know, but Anne and I are your friends. You shouldn't treat us like marks."

My actions must have had an effect because Harold never again treated me, or Anne, like a mark. He did talk the owner of an OKC mud company into starting an oil company and hiring him as president. The long-time mud company owner died a pauper after Harold had sucked off every penny he had.

Anyway, I got to thinking about Harold after my story about the Carousel Lounge in Shreveport. Harold, Anne and I had an adventure at the Carousel Lounge in New Orleans, at the Monteleone Hotel - an adventure instigated by Harold. Never drink at a rotating bar, is a rule that I had lived by for years, only to violate it some twenty years later.

Louisiana Mystery Writer