The sign on the door says "Finance." To me, it might as well be the gates of Hell. I've walked out of the showroom with a good deal on a boat and into the dreaded back office -- a place full of money-grabbing ghouls ready to play trick or treat with my dreams. That's when I hear him. "Pssst, over here, kid," from an odd character lurking behind a nearby cruiser, voice weakened by time. "Trust me, you don't want to go in there until you've seen this." I'm worried he wants to show me a lot more than financial figures, so I tense when he reaches into the depths of his overcoat. Lucky for me, the only thing he pulls out is a well-worn calculator. With relief I look up, and then step back in shock. "Hey, aren't you Alan Greenspa..." But he cuts me off. "Nah, we just look alike. Call me, uh, Murray," he says while ushering me out of the showroom. "Listen, I want you to forget what you think you know about boat loans. You're about to get a crash course in modern finance." Suddenly my mother's voice is warning me not to talk to strangers. "Sorry, Mom," I mumble to myself, but this weirdo -- who is already well into his lecture -- might get me a boat.