The Floor of Dreams


Jessie Pengelli was a legend in the world of hardwood floors. Some called him the Michelangelo of maple, the Da Vinci of Douglas fir. But to his loyal clients, he was simply Jessie—the guy who could make any room feel like a palace just by laying down a few planks of wood.

One foggy Tuesday morning, Jessie got a call from a potential client. The voice on the other end was calm, deliberate, and oddly... mysterious.

“I’d like to discuss a flooring job. Big one.”

Jessie, never one to turn down a challenge, grabbed his measuring tape, hopped into his battered Ford F-150, and drove out to the address: a vast open field on the edge of town. No house. No foundation. Just 100 acres of flat dirt and a folding table with two lawn chairs.

A man in a crisp white suit and sunglasses stood waiting.

“You must be Jessie,” the man said, shaking his hand firmly. “I’m Sterling Featherstone.”

“Pleasure,” Jessie replied, trying not to stare at the man’s snakeskin boots.

“So… where’s the house?” Jessie asked, glancing around.

Sterling smiled. “There is no house. I want this”—he gestured broadly to the empty field—“covered in hardwood. Walnut. The finest.”

Jessie blinked. “The whole field? You want to put a walnut hardwood floor in a parking lot?”

“Exactly.”

Jessie let out a short laugh. “You’re kidding, right? That’s gotta be a few million square feet. Why would anyone—”

Sterling interrupted him by pulling out a silver pen and a checkbook the size of a license plate. With one fluid motion, he scribbled a few zeroes, signed his name with a flourish, and handed Jessie the check.

Jessie stared at it.

Five. Hundred. Million. Dollars.

He held it up to the sun, as if expecting it to evaporate. But it didn’t. It shimmered with promise and the faint scent of oak.

Jessie slowly looked up, jaw slack. “You want that in a herringbone pattern or straight plank?”

Sterling grinned. “Surprise me.”

And just like that, Jessie Pengelli, the hardwood floor king, became the architect of the world’s first—and only—100-acre walnut parking lot. People came from all over to park on it. Luxury cars, food trucks, kids with scooters. There was even a wedding.

Jessie made a fortune, retired to a mountain chalet made entirely of reclaimed mahogany, and occasionally visited the parking lot with a bottle of bourbon and a microfiber mop, just to keep the grain gleaming.

Some said it was madness.

Jessie said it was the greatest floor he ever laid.

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