The sales people for these companies I buy from will often throw little perks my way in hopes of making some inroads. It doesn't work of couse, because my integrity is unassailable, but that doesn't stop me from accepting them.
Take last week for example. I was in Miami to check out a company that made tiny little pneumatic valves. Once they'd been thoroughly checked out I was swept off to a very nice restaurant for a very nice dinner. Once I was full of bourbon and wine and roasted duck soup with saffron I was carted back to the hotel. On the way up to our rooms the sales guy tells me:
"I'm having someone up a little later, want me to send someone over to you?"
"Sure", I blathered, not wanting to give away the fact that I had to get to sleep soon because I needed to get up early enough to down a couple of Bloody Marys before a 9am flight. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the food, maybe I'm just thick, but I had no idea what they guy meant. That was to change soon enough.
Here I am sitting in a hotel room, half drunk, trying to retrieve a particularly obstinant email that keeps locking up my Goodlink. A knock. I answer. It is a woman.
"Hi, Jeff sent me."
"Ok". Still not registering what is going on here.
"Can I come in?"
"Mphlztzz". I am usually smoother than this with the ladies.
Turns out this chick was an escort. I shit you not, a real live overglamorized hooker, right there in my hotel room. Sent to me by the salesman of a company that was trying to get me to get my company to buy a few hundred thousand dollars worth of tiny little pneumatic valves from them, the fee for whom was probably going to appear on the ENTERTAINMENT line of an expense report on Monday morning unaccompanied by a receipt. A woman, sent to fuck the daylights out of me, presumably in return for consideration on a contract. This is a new one on me. A perk I had not yet been introduced to. Dinners, alcohol, use of the company jet and tickets to important sporting events, golf I don't enjoy, clothing, desk clocks, calendars, pencils, pens, frisbees, hats, monogrammed notepads, Christmas ornaments, inflatable remote controlled blimps....I'd been handed all sorts of stuff, but never an actual human being. A hot one at that.
"You're cute", she lied.
"Of course I am.", siezing the opportunity to be a dick, "Jeff sent you? Jeff from (name omitted to prevent lawsuits)?"
"Yes. I'm your entertainment."
I try to imagine the kind of person who partakes in this type of thing regularly. It all seems very clinical. Like being at the license branch. You know the bastard behind the counter would like nothing more than to be home on the couch watching Springer, but they have to mentally hibernate their way through this one last customer of the day. They have repeated their lines so many times they come out as if read off a card. Who enjoys that sort of thing? Who sees it as a substitute for real sexual contact? I imagine what actual sex with this person would be like. I picture it being as robotic as the cue card conversation.
I think about what kind of person gets to the point where their best career move is to fuck anyone standing behind whatever hotel room door they are told to report to. I'm not particularly attracted to any men at all, but I'm sure one meets a higher than average percentage of combovers and belt overhangs and fucked up teeth and exertionless sweating in that line of work, just to make it all the less appealing.
Man I love my job.
Inspiration
