...but I do know one about a nude girl and a salami...

Thursday, September 15, 2005, 2:40pm
Steve's office

"What do you mean, her tits are uneven?"

"Just what I said! They're uneven!" Paulie says. "The nipples don't line up! I'd show ya, but, you know, that's private. Plus, I can't show you over the phone."

"Yeah, 'cause you only saw my girlfriend with my dick in her mouth."

"Oooo! I almost forgot! Send me that picture, man!"

"Why, so you can whack off over it? Yuck!"

"No, I'm gonna frame that fucker and hang it in my bathroom."

"So when are you and your uneven-breasted girlfriend coming out to visit?"

Bonnie sticks her head in the door. "Steve, Bart is on two. He's very.... irate."

"About what?"

"Something about his territory?"

"Paulie, I gotta run."

"OK, take care, bitch!"

"This is Steve."

"Steve, it's Bart. And I just visited a prospect downtown here..." his voice is shaking.

"Yeah, and?"

"And they handed me a business card from some jackass named Gonzalez. Who's selling OUR insurance!"

"Independent agent, selling our policies?"

"Yeah! This is MY territory, Steve. It's MINE! No one else is supposed to be selling here!"

"He can take the deal if it's referred from someone in his territory, Bart."

"No, he CAN'T, Steve!"

"Fran is on line 3," Dom says from my doorway. "You know that wire we send to corporate twice a month?"

"Yeah."

"Well there's one due today, and he says it's not there."

I cover the receiver with my hand. "I'm on the phone here. Who sends those wires? Andy?"

"Yeah, it's Andy."

".....MY territory, MY zip codes, and YOU are letting any Tom Dick or Harry sell...."

"Did you ask him about it?"

"He emailed me that the wire was sent, but he said he was leaving for the day."

"You're supposed to be a leader," Bart is saying. "How can you allow this? These people are just running wild! They're selling wherever they WANT!"

"Did he give you a confirm number, Dom?"

"No, he never does!"

Dammit.

".....I found this one by accident! How many would I find if I went out and looked-"

Heidi peeks through the doorway, around Dom. "Steve?"

"Yes, Heidi."

"I know you're terribly busy and I hate to bother you, but your brother Greg is on line 12."

"Take a message."

"He says it's urgent. And he sounds upset."

"Unless somebody is dead, take a message. And critical condition doesn't count."

Her big eyes open wider for a second. "Of course, Steve."

"Bart, Bart!"

"Yes."

"Listen. I'm gonna have Dom call you to discuss. But Gonzalez can sell in your territory if he was referred by a client in his area, I promise you. Now I've got to run, we've got a red ball out here."

"A RED BALL?"

"You know, a really important issue?"

"Tell Dom to call me today!"

Yeah, and I'll make sure he's got plenty of Maxim issues on hand. This way, maybe he can fantasize about Jenny McCarthy while you blow your daily gasket.

"OK, man."

Bonnie, in my doorway again: "Fran from corporate is on line six. He says Dom put him on hold and never came back?" she says, glancing at Dom.

"Go ahead," I sigh.

"This guy's a real ass," Dom intones.

"This is Steve."

"Steve, where the hell is the wire? This is three million dollars we're waiting for here! And Dom's putting me on hold, never coming back...."

"Dom is here, Fran."

There's an awkward pause. "Hi, Dom."

"Hi, Fran. Fran, I got confirmation that Andy in our finance area sent that wire, as he usually does."

"What's the confirmation number?"

"He didn't leave one."

"Well, he didn't send it. It didn't go through, or he didn't send it, because I have nothing here. And I ALWAYS get confirmation that it went through, and I have NOTHING."

"We'll call Andy on his cell and find the confirm number. I'm sure he sent it-"

"There's no TIME! The wire rooms are going to close at 3! If our reserves are underfunded WE ARE SCREWED!"

"We'll call the bank, then-" Dom begins.

"Just send it again!" Fran yells.

"Wire it AGAIN? It's three million dollars!" I say.

"Which explains why we need it!"

"And which ALSO explains why I'm gonna have a foot-high stack of NSF's tomorrow morning!"

He sighs loudly; more of a growl, really. "Forgive me, Steve, but if it comes to you getting a $25 returned check fee from Poland Spring, and our shareholders finding out we have a financial issue, I think the choice is obvious."

"I'm calling the bank to confirm the wire."

"We don't have TIME to confirm it! Send it again!"

"If we have time to send it again, we have time to check it."

"So you check it, and while they are checking it, the wire room closes and we don't have our money."

"Fran, we'll call you back in five."

"It's ten of! Send it again!"

"We'll call you back in five," I say, firmly.

Heidi, back in the doorway: "Your brother is very upset. He says he wants to hold for you and he's refusing to hang up."

"What's his issue?"

"He says it's family-related. And he says you're not answering your cell phone."

Some people just can't take a fucking hint.

Shit. I wonder if it's about Jenny. But it couldn't be. Could it?

"Tell him it's gonna be a while."

We call the bank and get the confirmation number. It went throuh at 1:46pm.

2:54.

We call Fran. "You handle him," I tell Dom.

This is an assignment Dom won't mind, believe me. In fact, Dom is thrilled. Being able to call someone and tell him that we were right and he was wrong is a great feeling, especially with clueless morons in positions of authority like Fran. Besides, I delegate work any chance I get; the boss should not be mired in details.

I read in Newsweek where President Bush personally supervised the evacuation of a hospital after hurricane Rita. It was reported in a positive light, as in, "Look how he's attending to the details himself!" That was not good management on Bush's part; it was Bush doing the job himself, which is NOT leadership.

"Guyyys," Fran says. He sounds a lot calmer.

"Fran, we called the bank. The wire went through. I have the confirmation number," Dom says.

"You know, it's funny how things happen sometimes, " Fran laughs. "Our usual receptionist is out this week, and we got a temp to replace her. And the fax came in from the bank for the wire, like it normally does, but the temp saw "Fran" at the top, and she brought it down to Francine on the third floor, who runs the cafeteria! I got it on my desk and it had a little, uh, it had a little tomato sauce on it! Isn't that hilarious?"

"No," I say.