• Home

Forum

Posted on August 5, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

They were laughing so hard tears were streaming down their eyes and yet, it didn’t look like a gathering of happy people. To look at them, was to lay eyes upon a group of people doing well enough to afford the accoutrements that a certain status brings with it. Louis Vuitton bags sat like overfed puppies besides the women wearing enough diamonds to draw the attention of thieves seeking an easy heist. Fendi spectacle frames were perched like orange or red gargoyles on the noses of men who should have known better than to sport those colours on their faces, especially at that age. They appeared prosperous and healthy and yet, they all looked unhappy.

A younger woman, which would still put her in her mid-thirties, stepped up to take the seat recently vacated by the last speaker. The fact that her breasts were moving quite freely under her Gucci shirt meant that most people paid attention. Half the men in the room knew her intimately, the other half was waiting its turn. She had that kind of reputation and access to every important boardroom and party as a result. She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled, “Has anybody had the guy who said…I don’t know what I want but this is not it?”

Hands went up all around the room.

She continued, “What the fuck is someone supposed to do with something like that, right?”

One of the men cut in, “A blowjob might have worked.”

A few people snickered and she took the comment in her stride, “Very funny Om, but somehow I can’t imagine you getting down on your knees. What was it? Arthritis or acid flashbacks?”

The silver-haired (and reputedly equally silver-tongued) Om smiled and said, “A little bit of both actually.”

More people laughed.

She mock glared at him and continued, “We tried everything. Whenever we could corner him for an hour, fifteen minutes whatever we asked questions. Is it the colours? The model? The layout? The tagline? The placement of the logo? We couldn’t get a single word out of him! Other than, of course, ‘I don’t know, it’s just not how I imagined it…’ So I asked personally, what did you imagine? And he goes, ‘it was all in the brief.’”

People were shaking their heads all around the room. There were a few muttered angry comments and a lot of moaning and sighing. She sat back, nodded at the reactions she was getting and said, “So guess what happens.”

The whole room groaned.

“We changed everything maybe thirty times. Colours, layouts, logo size, logo placement, you name it, we did it. And then finally, one day we put something in front of him and he jumped out of his fucking chair, the bastard. He was ecstatic! ‘Yes! This is what I wanted. Yes! See good work comes if you dig deeper.’ Four months we worked on that thing.”

People around the room clapped. There were a couple of wolf whistles and a couple of woo-hoos. As she scanned the room, people realised that she didn’t look happy, or proud. In fact she looked positively teary-eyed. The room went quiet. It was very hard to understand what she was saying because her next words were riding a battered kayak down the rapids of her sobs, “And then guess what the art director tells me as we’re leaving the place after the fucking…cunt finally signed off on months of labour…”

The room was deathly silent because most of them feared what was to come. She looked around the room, “Anyone?”

Most of them suspected an answer but few were willing to wager a guess. With an immense sniff she said, “He said, ‘that’s the first design we showed him.’”

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. People were nodding and others were rocking back and forth in their chairs. Tears were streaming down the speaker’s face and she raised her hands in a helpless shrug that still managed to draw the attention of a couple of the younger executives to her breasts.

After several moments, another man, stern, muscular and with the fullest head of hair stepped up and put his arms around her. He whispered a couple of words of engagement to her and then he turned to the crowd, “But through it all her people worked hard enough to deliver on their promise to the client. That’s what makes us who we are.”

The room erupted in cheers as he helped her to her feet and escorted her out of the room.

When they were alone in the corridor he eased her hair off her face in the manner of someone who has done much more and said, “I didn’t realise how hot you could be when you cried. I might have tried to make you miserable instead of just trying to screw you in a million different ways.”

She laughed through her tears.

He put his arm around her and continued walking her in the direction of the rest rooms, “Now because I like you and because of all the things you let me do to you I’m going to let you in on a secret.”

She nodded and paid attention as he said, “This is the same guy I think it is right?”

She nodded again.

“Who’s the best cocksucker in your office?”

“I’m sorry?” She was actually surprised enough to extricate herself from his grip.

“I’m serious.”

“About what?”

“You know the guy. All work no play. Instead of making him a dull boy it makes him very edgy. Now my people work hard and I don’t want him pissing all over that work because he didn’t make a million dollars on some dodgy tip he got from his brother-in-law or whatever. So before we go in to do a presentation with this guy, we send a girl in to take care of him.”

“From the staff?”

He nodded, “We tried that a couple of times but most of my girls need the mental stimulation before they can get naked and really mean it. ‘Ho for hire’ has limited appeal so we use these professional girls. Very discreet, very thorough. Our acceptance rate for a first presentation has gone up from forty percent to eighty-five. You can’t argue with those kinds of numbers.”

“That’s…impressive.”

“I was wondering how Om had heard of this…but then that’s his problem isn’t it? He tosses out the good ideas flippantly and gets anal about all the shit they produce.”

They laughed together and realised that they were outside the Women’s Room. He used a crooked finger to raise her chin and asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded, “I’ll be fine. It’s just been…a rough week.”

“Should I wait?”

“No I’ll be fine.”

She pushed the door open and he said, “Don’t forget to take those numbers from me.”

She nodded and disappeared into the rest room.

Comments