The race for #35 is on!

Which lucky lady will become the 35th person to do the "hunka chunka" with the Steverino? Only time will tell, but if I were a betting man, I would say it might just be Julie the hot lawyer!

Thought she was going to stand me up tonight, but she finally did show up, around 9...she walked right over and sat down next to me, and everyone was checking us out to see what was going on. Ross said our body language was "very flirty." He said, "Steve, if you bag her, my respect for you will rise to a whole new level. She is EXQUISITE!" Yeah, he said "exquisite".

Julie and I talked for 2 hours straight. Coworkers kept coming over and teasing us:

"Hey, there's a hotel upstairs, if you two need to get a room"
"Somebody get me a crowbar to separate Julie and Steve"
"Don't you two come up for air?"

And, most ominously:
"I think we have a new romance brewing here!"

Like I said, jokes tell us a lot about what is on people's minds. Confuscious said, "Many a true word is spoken in jest". So I fully expect the rumor mill to be working full-tilt starting tomorrow. She might as well screw me, because by Friday, that is what the rumor will be anyway.

Lila is going to get wind of the rumor tomorrow. Hope she doesn't snap. Maybe I will talk to her and tell her nothing is going on. Even if something is. Let's face it: I treated Lila like shit, and she does NOT deserve to be tortured.

Julie did not say one word about this so-called boyfriend of hers. Not ONE. And I didn't ask either. The worst thing you can do is ask a girl if she is dating anyone. Let HER tell you if she is involved with someone. If she is on the fence, and is not sure about you, and you give her an easy way out, she might take it.

Ross was right about the body language. There was plenty of "incidental touching": She'd be making a point, and she'd touch my elbow or my knee, and she played with her hair a lot too, putting it behind her ear, twirling it in her fingers, etc.

At the end of the night, I walk her to her car. We stare at each other for a long moment, not saying a word. Finally, she says, "You are a dangerous man, you know that?" , straightening my collar.

"How so?"

"A girl might not be able to trust herself around you."

"You mean I am a bad influence on you?"

"DEFINITELY."

"I haven't even gotten started yet." I go to kiss her; she gives me a little peck and pulls back.

"Uh-uh," she says.

OUCH!! I figured I was getting somewhere tonight!

"Not on the first date," she says.

"So this is a date?!"

She blushes. "I guess".

"When we go on our second date, can we have a few less coworkers around?"

She laughs. "You just don't quit, do you? You really want to go out with me?"

"Yes, of course I do! It's great to talk to you!"

She looks down at the ground. Uh-oh.

"We should probably talk a little first."

"OK."

So my "date" with Julie ended badly. But I know for certain she is interested, and hopefully she is just playing major hard-to-get early.

Butterface, out; hot lawyer chick, IN!

So I'm getting ready to leave the office this morning to go to the closing, and Julie from legal comes to see me. "Would you mind riding to the closing with me? I need to speak to you." she says.

Let's see: Nasty breakup with my employee on Saturday, legal wants to see me on Tuesday. Don't like the timing there. But it might just be about the closing.

Julie is very hot: About 5 feet tall, black hair (wears it in a bob), about a 34B, if I am guessing, and a nice muscular little body. It looks like she works out a lot. She is always wearing these really expensive suits and nice jewelry. I am sure she out-earns me by a mile. And I think she is older than me, which I usually don't like, but I would make an exception for her.

Of course, I made sure I hit on Julie when we hired her last year, but she has this mysterious "boyfriend" who is supposedly overseas with the military, and no one has ever seen him; not even so much as a picture. Plus, I was working on Lila all the time then. Rumor around here is that Julie is gay, and the boyfriend story is just a front. Not sure I believe it, but who knows?

Turns out Julie is the lawyer who spoke to Bart Friday after I requested someone call him. "He thinks VERY highly of you," she said. "We all do!"

"Awww, come on," I say.

"We have been talking for some time about a liaison position between the legal department and the agents, and your name kept coming up," she says.

"Take calls from guys like Bart at 5:00 on a Friday? No thanks!"

"We ran it by Ross; he thinks it's a good idea!"

"Tell HIM to do it then." At this point, I'm getting annoyed. I hate lawyers and "bigwigs" who are always moving people around and changing things for no reason. I'm vaguely aware that I am sounding very angry.

"I didn't mean to....."

"Forgive me, but it sounds like I would be doing other people's shit work that they don't want to deal with. My plate is rather full, anyway, at the moment."

"We think Ross would go for a signing bonus and a 5% raise."

Wonder what the number was BEFORE I got pissed.

"And we were hoping that your assistant could take on some of your duties to free up time on your schedule."

"OK, it sounds a little better now," I say.

She laughs, a little too hard for the joke. She is nervous - or trying to make me feel better. "I see why Bart likes you. You're very direct," she says. I turn to look at her, and she is looking at me admiringly. Almost flirting?

Now I get it: She's a treat-me-like-shit girl! I was too nice last year...that is why she didn't show any interest! OK, I might be able to make this work.

"I have a lot of questions," I say. "I need to see an updated org chart, for one thing. It sounds like there's going to be dotted lines all over the place. And Lila is just going full-time on July 1, so I don't want to overload her. Can we have lunch tomorrow to discuss?"

"It should probably be Jack you meet with...."

"Forget it. Deal's off then."

"How did I KNOW you were going to say that?"

"Hey," I say. "Are you going to Doc's tonight with the group?"

"I have court tomorrow."

"I'll get you a hangover continuance," I say. "I don't usually take no for an answer. Not from girls with shiny black hair."

"ONE drink," she says.

"OK".

PERFECT! Now, I don't have to call Kelly. OR Butterface. OR Lila.

We finished the closing at 2:45, and Julie walked back to my office with me. I was doing my Jerry Seinfeld impersonation (I just read on the smoking gun that he spent 5 million bucks on a garage for 5 cars) and she was breaking up. Lila saw us and was NOT happy.

You watch: I will be fucking Lila - hard - by the weekend. And I bet she won't be saying "I love you" either.

Blue Tuesday

The acquisition is going on as scheduled, later this morning. I will be in a lawyer's office for at least five hours, bored to tears.

This is just the type of meeting where I would be in the back of the room, sending x-rated messages to Lila on my BlackBerry, and she'd be sending them back from her study hall, or wherever.

Yeah, I miss her.

Tonight, we are all going to Doc O'Malley's to celebrate the acquisition. Drinking is not nearly as fun when I have no chance to get laid, so I have to plan for the evening. The way I see it, I have five options:

1. Call Kelly (hot Kelly) and see if she is free, even though we have a date tomorrow night;
2. Call Butterface Kelly (psycho chick). This would truly be an act of desperation;
3. Late-night booty call with Lila (IF she can sneak out of the house, and IF she is willing. I think we will probably hook up again, but I kind of want her to make the first move);
4. Try to hook up with someone at the bar (for some reason, I have better luck with waitresses than girls who are there drinking, but the waitresses there are all 50-year-old skanks who smoke 2 packs a day. It definitely ain't Hooters);
5. Go home and whack off. A last resort.

It's a sad state of affairs when my #2 option is a stalker-in-training.

I'm off to the lawyer's office now. When I get back, I'll start calling around to see what I can arrange for tonight.

A-one, a-two-hoo-hooo! A-three.....NO!

I am not a jealous boyfriend. Maybe it's cause I don't like being a boyfriend to begin with. Maybe it's because I'm "secure in my manliness". Whatever it is, I kind of get off on the idea of another guy doing my girlfriend in front of me. I have suggested it to a couple of girls I have been with, but none of them were ever up for it. Two girls and me is good too, but there is nothing quite like the idea of watching my girl get pounded.

Lila was always telling me about her friend, "Sally," whom she used to get high with. Sally, she said, was WAY crazier than she was. "So invite her over here for a threesome," I said, half jokingly.

"Oh yeah!" Said Lila. "She has said before, she wants to do that someday. But there are two big rules."

"What?"

"You can't kiss her on the mouth, and you CAN NOT fuck her"

Well, ok. But wasn't that kind of the point?

One night about a week later, Lila brought Sally over to my house. I drank; they got high. Smoking always makes Lila hornier than usual, and she was on me like a vulture.

I remember it vividly. I was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, and she jumped up on my lap so our faces were almost touching. She starts grinding away at me, and all the while, Sally is right across the room, baked as hell.

"Fuck, you guys!! Fuck! I want to see you!" Sally said.

"I can't get naked in front of her," Lila said. So she pulls her jeans down around her knees, and I do the same. And then she turns all the lights out, and it's almost pitch black in the room.

And then she mounts me, and starts riding me. Hard.

Sally is looking, staring as us while we fuck. I had never had sex with someone watching like that. I liked it.

So Lila turns around and looks at Sally, then pulls my head close to her, and says in my ear, "she's playing with herself."

I look over, and sure enough, Sally is rubbing her crotch, over her jeans. She unbuttons her jeans.....

Lila turns around again. "Do you want to get fucked," she says. "Do you want him to fuck you?"

I'm gonna have a threesome, I thought. I'm finally gonna have one!! But I thought that was one of the rules, that I couldn't fuck her! Well, not that I am complaining.

"Wait," says Sally, and she runs to the bathroom.

Two minutes later, the door opens, and Sally comes running out (fully clothed, BTW), runs out the front door, and goes sprinting down the street. Lila and I just kind of shrug and keep fucking.

Truthfully, I expected her to walk around for a while, then come back. But she never did. Turns out, she walked the whole 5 miles home.

Better luck next time, right?

Brace yourself for.....NOTHING

I am reminded of the Monty Python sketch in which, well, NOTHING happens:

"June the 4th, 1973, was much like any other summer's day in Peterborough, and Ralph Mellish, a file clerk at an insurance company, was on his way to work as usual when --- (da dum!) Nothing happened!
(ominous chords)
Scarcely able to believe his eyes, Ralph Mellish looked down. But one glance confirmed his suspicions. Behind a bush, on the side of the road, there was no severed arm. No dismembered trunk of a man in his late fifties. No head in a bag. Nothing. Not a sausage."

You get the idea.

Anyway, when 2:30 rolled around today, I was ready for anything. I got, NOTHING.

Oh, Lila came in, all right, right on time, and was as sweet as pie. "Hi Steve, how was your weekend?" She said.

How was my weekend? DUH!

She was mailing out commissions today, and I just knew she was going to be alone with me in my office, having questions on some of them, and I wondered what would happen. Whenever she did commissions while we were dating, she used to wait until there was no one around, then stick her tongue in my ear, or grab my crotch, etc. That always got her in BIG trouble later that night ;-).

But this time, she was totally professional. She was in my office for 15 minutes, and it was all business. Thought I caught her looking really sad a couple of times out of the corner of my eye, but overall, nothing.

Either she is the most mature 17-year-old I've ever met, or she is biding her time, waiting to either piss me off big time, or try to reconcile. Or both.

OH!! Almost forgot! My failed attempt at a threesome! Stay tuned!!!

Ramifications and repercussions - redux

I said this weekend that, come Monday, I'd still be writing, and I was right.

After Lila and I had our pseudo-movie-of-the-week breakup, I drove home, and got ready for a productive weekend of quiet and housework.

There were 7 messages on my answering machine:

1. Friday, 7:30pm: the alarm company. I forgot to set the alarm before I left the office. They need me to come up and set it.

2. 8:21pm: the alarm company. Never mind, building security set it.

Thank god - Ross is the next name on the contact list, and he would not have been happy to come in.

3. 8:24pm: "Hi Steve, it's Kelly. We were supposed to have drinks tonight, and I was just wondering if we're still on...my plans fell through....please call me."

Wait a minute. Kelly had a bachelorette party last night!

Oh, shit. This wasn't "Christina Applegate" Kelly; this was "Butterface" Kelly!

4. 9:40pm: [sounding annoyed] "Steve, it's Kelly. Still haven't heard from you yet, just wondering if we are on....please call."

5. 10:15pm: [angry now]"Steve, if you didn't want to go I wish you would have just told me! Now, I've cancelled my plans and, ohhhh!" CLICK.

Well, which is it, BIYOTCH? Did your plans 'fall through', or did you 'cancel them'?

6. 10:30pm: 30 seconds of silence. Sniffling in the background. CLICK.

7. 10:40pm: Hangup.

I never gave that psycho chick my number. She must have gotten it from the photo center or something - I develop pictures there sometimes. It's good that she works there, though - if it gets outta hand, I can just tell the manager that one of their employees obtained my number illicitly, and that if they didn't put a stop to it, I would sue. Believe me, Wal-Mart would be all over that one.

I've had a couple of stalkers in my life. Usually, I just totally ignore them, and they give up. I don't respond to them in any way, positively or negatively. One night, I was having dinner with a young lady, when another girl walked right into the restaurant (she must have followed us), and started berating me right there in front of everyone. I leaned over and whispered to my date to go get the manager, and meanwhile, just sipped my water and looked straight ahead. I avoided all eye contact, and said nothing.

A waiter came over and asked her to lower her voice. She smacked his arm aside. Then the manager came over, and the two of them escorted her out the door, still screaming. As she walked out, the whole place applauded.

If I had gotten into a shouting match with her, I guarantee I would have looked like the bad guy. Instead, I looked like the poor, innocent victim, and she looked like a weirdo.

I am reminded of what my dad told me: Life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you deal with it. I use that advice most every day.

Lila will be here soon. Definitely ought to be more drama there. If she quits, I am hoping she simply stops showing up, rather than give two weeks' notice. If she gives notice, everyone will ask her why she is leaving, and she is bound to crack. If she does give notice, I may tell Ross everything, and let the chips fall where they may. It's better than him finding out through the grapevine.

I will wait and see what happens when she gets here, though.

Disastrous weekend, chapter 4 (the conclusion)

I set a wake-up call for 6:00. That would be enough time to fuck, shower, have a nice long breakfast, and still get Lila back home by 9.

It turns out I didn't need the wakeup call; at 5:45, I woke up to my dick being sucked. I'm horny when I wake up anyway; this kind of thing just drives me right over the edge. It was going to feel good to actually have sex in the morning, as opposed to jerking off.

She licked and kissed my member as if it were a lollipop. She pulled it slowly out of her mouth, and I almost ached with the desire to fuck her. She turned around and rubbed her asshole against my cock, looking back at me with her big brown eyes.

I probably should have lubed first, but I could not wait. I shoved my dick into her ass, and it was surprisingly easy to penetrate her. She pulled her hair away from her face with her right hand, and placed her left hand on my thighs. I could see her in the mirror; she was biting her lip.

The phone rang for our wake-up call. I picked up the receiver and hung it up again.

I pushed myself up with my hands and kissed her neck. She turned her head and kissed me gently, pushing her warm, wet tongue in my mouth. "Say it," she said.

"SAY it," she said again, opening her eyes and staring at me. "Tell me you love me."

Oh, fuck. Not now. Not fucking now.

"Baby, don't."

"I mean it," she said, almost shouting. "Tell me now!"

"Lila, don't. Not now, baby, please?!"

She lifted her hips, and as I watched my cock slide out of her ass, I knew it was over.

I am a reasonable guy. Very even-tempered, usually. But there are a few things you don't do to me. One of them is try to blackmail me into saying shit I don't mean when we are in mid-fuck.

I was a mindless blob. I was an addict without a crack pipe. A fish pulled out of the water, suffocating. Dom DeLouise without a fork and knife.

I ran to the bathroom, grabbed my cock and masurbated to orgasm. There was no pleasure, no joy in it. It was strictly mechanical. I had come; now, I could think. Somewhat.

I left the bathroom. Lila was on the bed, crying. She knew what she had done.

"That is IT," I said. "It's over. I told you. I TOLD you! And you had to fucking push it, didn't you?!"

"I'm, I'm sorry. I'm fucking SORRY, ok?" she said, sobbing. "I'm sorry I'm in love with you! I'm sorry you are such a fucking commitment-phobic ASSHOLE! I'm sorry you're such a BABY!"

"Get dressed. We're leaving," I said.

I went and showered, and calmed down a bit. Whacked off again in the shower. I took a deep breath and felt better.

I came out of the shower. She was still crying.

"Do you want to go eat," I said.

"No."

"It's ok, we can go if you want."

"I said NO!"

"Ok, fine. Let's go."

It was the most awkward hour of my life. Being in a two-seater with someone you are pissed at is really tough. You don't know what to say. So I said nothing, and she said nothing, and we went the whole 60 miles in utter silence.

We arrived at her house. "Looks like your mom is gone," I said.

"mm-hmm."

"Goodbye, Lila," I said.

"Bye, Steve," she said, her voice breaking. She picked up her dress and got out of the car.

As she strode up the walkway, it looked just like the final scene of a movie or TV show. I was supposed to feel a sense of loss, or anger, or bitterness. But I felt basically nothing, except for a little resentment at how she had tried to trap me, and a vague sense of happiness that I was totally unencumbered again. There were more Lila's out there; I knew it. And now, I was free to pursue them.

I wonder if she will show up for work on Monday.

Disastrous weekend, chapter 3

There was no traffic, and we were making incredible time. Then Lila started taking her clothes off. She was wearing a demi bra. Deep blue; my favorite. She bent over, and her boobs shimmied from side to side, ever so slightly.

"Shouldn't I stop the car before we take our clothes off," I said.

"I'm CHANGING!" she said.

Ahh, putting on her nice dress for dinner.

"How did that dress get in the car," I asked. I hadn't even noticed it!

"I brought it to school today, then brought it to work and put it in the downstairs storage area that we never use," she said. "When I brought your lunch bag down to your car, I just put the dress in, too." Clever girl!

She pulled the dress up over her head, when suddenly, I saw the bright lights in my rear view. Some asshole's gettin' pulled over, I thought.

Guess who the asshole was!

I pulled over and stopped the engine. Then I heard a voice over the PA system: "GET OUT OF THE CAR! BOTH OF YOU!! OUT OF THE CAR WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD"

"Do you have any pot," I said to Lila.

"What?"

"DO YOU HAVE ANY POT ON YOU?"

"YES!"

"Shit! DO NOT let them search your stuff. You got it? DO NOT!!!"

"OUT OF THE CAR, NOW!!!"

I got out of the car. "My girlfriend was....is....unable," I said.

"Hands on the top of the car," The cop said. He kept talking into his radio: "I got the driver out, the passenger is still in the vehicle," etc.

He opened the passenger door. "Get out, ma'am".

"I'm not dressed!" she said.

"IF YOU DON'T GET OUT OF THE CAR, I AM GOING TO PLACE YOU UNDER ARREST," he screamed.

So Lila climbs out, bare-footed, dress unzippered and hanging off one shoulder, hair everywhere. He led her several yards away, talked to her for several minutes. Then, he came back to me. "Get in the back of my car," he said.

Ahhhhh, shit. This is all I need.

He read every letter of my license plate and name into the radio. "Tango, charlie, alpha," etc. etc. It took forever.

Finally, he turned around to me. "What the hell was going on out there," he said. "It looked like the two of you were fighting or struggling. I thought you were assaulting her."

"No, we are late for a big date. I'm gonna ask her to marry me tonight." Don't freak. It's total bullshit. But I figured it might have an effect on him.

"REALLY? Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's ok. She was just changing in the car, to save time."

"She told me the same thing. I just separated you to make sure your stories matched. Just please take it easy on the speeding, ok?"

"Yes sir, thanks!"

He opened the door and let me out.

"Hey," he said. "Good luck tonight!"

That was it. No ticket, no warning, nothing.

I got back in the car. It was 6:40, and we were still 30 miles from the restaurant.

Then I hit the traffic jam.

After moving 10 feet in 10 minutes, I called the restaurant to ask them to hold the table. Then Lila's phone rang, and she looked to see who it was, and went pale.

"What?"

"It's Michelle," she said, "the girl whose house I am supposed to be at tonight. She said she would only call in case of an emergency". Lila dialed the number.

"Yeah. Why? Oh, ok. Ok, bye," she said. She hung up.

"My mother called Michelle's house looking for me. So Michelle said, 'My mom is waiting for an important call. Can Lila call you right back from her cell?'". Man, that Michelle is clever.

So Lila called her mom, and it turns out the plumber was supposed to be at her house at 9:00am on Saturday. But her mom was going to be at work, so she needed Lila to be there to let him in. So Lila promised her mother she'd be home by 9:00 the next morning.

Another bullet dodged. Hopefully, the craziness would be over now.

We finally got to the restaurant at 8:10. I love eating at restaurants after 8 at night. No matter how popular the place is, it's usually dead, and you don't have to wait for a table. Plus, you get great service, since no one is very busy.

Sure enough, this place seated us right away. Pierre, our waiter, kept apologizing for the traffic jam, as if it were somehow his fault. And he was very attentive all night long.

"What is your house wine," I asked. He told me.

"We'll take two, please."

"I'll need to see some ID for the lady." What about me? Don't I look under 21? ;-)

Lila opened her purse, took out her wallet, and did a very convincing job of "looking" for her license. "ohhhhhh," she said finally, putting her wallet away.

"Forgot it?" I asked.

"mm-hmm."

"Never mind the wine, Pierre."

"OK," said Pierre.

Pierre came back with two glasses of wine. "These are both for you, right sir?" He said, winking. He put the glasses in front of me and left.

We drank a toast, to "rest and relaxation".

After a nice, long dinner (and a 30% tip for Pierre, about 35 bucks), we left the restaurant. It was 9:15. We got to the mall at 9:30; they were closing at 10. We went straight to Victoria's Secret and bought a really nice little ensemble, victorian blue, of course. Ok, so it was over $100 - about $25 for every minute she'll have it on! Lila figured she would just tell her mother that she never got to the mall, and she'd go next week.

Then, we checked into the room. It was bigger, and had more amenities, than I could have hoped for: Huge living room, massive bedroom with two king-sized beds, THREE TV's, and whirlpool tub, to name a few. It looked like there was a lot more, but I was exhausted. I sat down on the couch to rest for a few. It was 10:15. Lila went to get changed, and I closed my eyes, just for minute.........

................and woke up at 12:45.

Lila was curled up next to me, in just her bra.

I looked at her for a long moment. Her skin was a perfect cream color, no trace of a blemish. Her eyelashes were impossibly long, her lips plump and thick, turned up just slightly at the corners. Her hair covered half her face, and one of her big hoop earrings rested lazily against her cheek. She looked absolutely perfect. There was no longer any doubt: She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. There were million-dollar paintings that were more flawed than this stupid, random moment on a couch in a hotel room.

And she was in love with me.

And yet, somehow, as I stood over the toilet, dick in hand, taking a leak, my thoughts turned to Kelly, whom I had met in the parking lot the day before. wonder if I'll ever fuck her, I thought.

I had everything any reasonable man could want. And somehow, I wasn't happy. Not even close. It's moments just like that that make me realize just how fucking sick I truly am. And it makes no difference. I still can't help it.

I walked back into the living room, and Lila was awake. "Hey baby," she said. She kissed me.

I reached behind her and unhooked her bra with my right hand (it's a rare talent), then held her face with my left. I was suddenly, urgently, incredibly hard. She laid back and linked her feet tightly behind my waist, pulling our hips together.

I like to enter a girl without using my hands. Somehow, eliminating my own touch heightens the pleasure for me. The lights were all on. I love it that way. I stood up on my knees and watched as my cock slid slowly, languidly, into her. She was already warm and slippery inside. It is amazing how fast she gets wet.

Her big, firm tits bobbed slowly as I penetrated her. The charm that she wears on a necklace slid from the front of her neck to the back.

She stood upright on her knees and pushed me down, mounting me like a cowgirl. There's a certain way she has of sliding her hips up, then down, then back, then forward. And all the while she's staring into my eyes, biting her bottom lip or squeezing her breasts.

She wears chunky rings on her middle fingers. I find that incredibly hot. That, and colored nail polish really do it for me.

The "pleasure drug" coursed through my veins. I could feel my arms and legs trembling with ecstasy. Would I kill? I thought. Would I kill for this feeling?

No. I wouldn't kill. But I would do anything else.

Her breath caught, and she stopped grinding. "uhhhhhhhhhh. Oh FUCK," she moaned.

I watched as her abdominal muscles contracted wildly. Her pussy gripped me, then released, then gripped again, then released. Lila doesn't come every time, but when she does, it's obvious.

I am very good at controlling my orgasms. I can hold it, almost indefinitely, if I try. And once I want to let it go, I can do it fairly quickly. So I relaxed all my muscles down there and let the orgasm overtake me. I could feel it welling up; I could hear it, almost like a rumbling in my ears. As it rose to a crescendo, I pulled out and rubbed my cock against her neatly-trimmed tuft of pubic hair, exploding all over her stomach and chest. I always shoot a long way; It's hit her in the face before!

I was still tired, and I laid back down. She put her head on my chest and traced lazy lines around my face with her index finger. "I love you, baby," she said.

I didn't know it at the time, but that was the probably the last time I will ever have sex with Lila.

Disastrous weekend, chapter 2

I looked at my watch. It was 5:25. I was supposed to pick up Lila in 5 minutes, but with Carl there, I couldn't go anywhere near the place. If he saw Lila get into my car, on Monday it would be all over the office that I was fucking her.

I heard a vacuum in the hallway. It was Pablo, this guy who works for the cleaning company. He walks all around the building with one of these portable vacuum cleaners that you carry on your back like a backpack. He's not a good vacuumer: I remember one occasion when there was construction going on, and plaster dust was everywhere, including the carpet. So at the end of the day, I hear Pablo's vacuum going, and I figure he's going to clean up all the dust. Later, on my way to the men's room, I walked by the area in question, and saw PABLO'S FOOTPRINTS in the dust, which was STILL THERE! He he he...

But I had an idea: I could hook Pablo up with a $50, and tell him to run down to Starbuck's, pick her up, and bring her back here.

It was too risky. If Carl should recognize Pablo, it would be the same as if I had done it, except instead of "Lila is screwing Steve," it would be "Lila is screwing the cleaning guy." Plus, what if Pablo got weird and tried to hit on her? He could be dangerous...

But I was on to something. Someone else could pick her up, just not Pablo. AHA!! How about Jeff, from the landlord's office? I had gotten drunk with Jeff a few times, and I figured he might do me a favor. He only worked around the corner...

I called his cell. He picked up. "This is Jeff!"

"Jeff, it's Steve! Can you do me a major favor, for which I would be eternally indebted?"

"If I can...What's up?"

"One of my employees is at Starbuck's right now. There's an employee there who is trying to talk to her, and not taking the hint, so she told him that her boyfriend is on the way to pick her up."

"So you want me to be the boyfriend?"

"Basically. Just pick her up and bring her here. You don't even have to get out of the car."

"Well, I'm at the hardware store, about 1/2 a mile away. I don't have to fight anyone, do I?"

"Believe me, you're safe."

I messaged Lila again: MY FRIEND JEFF IS ON THE WAY TO GET YOU. BLUE 2003 DODGE.

Finally, we are getting somewhere!! But it was 5:35 and we were officially behind schedule.

5:45. Where the fuck were they? My phone rang. Jeff.

"Heyyyy dog! Why didn't you tell me this employee was such a looker? There's NO WAY I'm taking her back to the office! I'm taking her to Doc O'Malley's! Meet us there!"

"No, Jeff, NO! Bring her back here!"

"Doc O'Malley's!! Meet us there!!"

"Jeff, she's not of age......."

CLICK.

Fuck.

My phone rang. Lila.

"Will you PLEASE tell him to bring me to the office?"

"Give him the phone," I said.

"Jeff speaking. May I helllllp yooooou?"

"Jeff, her boyfriend just got here. They have a reservation somewhere, he says. He was coming to surprise her. Can you please, please bring her to the office?"

"Alright, alright!! Turning around --- now!!" I heard the tires squealing.

"Give Lila the phone back"

"Hi," she said.

"I'll be in my car with the engine running."

"I'll be there."

5:50. She ran into the parking lot and jumped into my car. Got on the highway and set the cruise control for 80. Our reservation was for 7:00 We might make it yet!!

Oh, the humanity

So much shit has gone down this weekend that I figure if I start typing now, I might be done by Monday. Let's just say that the past 32 hours or so will go down with the greatest disasters of all time, like the Hindenburg, the Titanic, and Sheryl Crow's remake of "D'yer M'ker" by Led Zeppelin.

It all started at about 5 of 5 yesterday afternoon. Lila told me that Jack, our lead counsel on the acquisition I have been working on, was on the phone. "He doesn't sound happy," she said.

So I get on the phone, and Jack says that one of our agents, Bart, is "unhappy with the commission schedule" on the deal.

"UNHAPPY?" I said. "He signed off on it! Three weeks ago! And he stands to make a couple grand on this deal, total. TOPS!"

"Yeah, I know. But he's apeshit now," Jack said.

"So what are you thinking here," I said.

"Legally, he's got no case. We could just proceed as if nothing happened."

"No," I said. "Think about it. We tell Bart to fuck off, he calls Ross on Monday, then Ross calls me and tells me to give Bart whatever he wants. And then he gives me a lecture about taking care of our agents. Meanwhile, we are drawing up all sorts of amendments, and delaying our closing date. It's an NFW!"

"True."

"I have the schedule in front of me," I said. "He is being paid very fairly; similar to other deals. So maybe our job is just to remind him of that."

"Maybe YOUR job is to remind him," Jack said. "You know him; I don't."

Lila came to my doorway. "Bye, Steve," she smiled. "Have a good weekend."

"I intend to."

"Hey there!" said a voice from down the hall. It sounded familiar. It was Carl the dorky VP. He was running to catch up with Lila. "Big plans for the weekend?"

He sounded just like a used car salesman. He was trying to hit on her! And, as he walked by my door, I noticed that he SMELLED like a car salesman, too. Drakkar Noir, and way too much of it, too. That fucking played-out cologne jumped the shark when 12-year-olds starting wearing it to the video arcades.

Lila walked out, with Carl close behind. I hope he doesn't follow her all the way to Starbuck's, I thought.

I looked at my watch. It was 5:05. Bart has diarrhea of the mouth; even if I resolved this with him, I knew I could be on the phone for an hour, easy. Why? Why today?

Just then, Tommy ran into my office. "I got that agent, Bart, on the phone. Holy SHIT, he's pissed. He sounds like he's gonna get a lawyer and sue us all, man! And that acquisition? The whole thing is down the toilet, man! He's gonna torpedo the whole fucking deal!"

Like I said. Chicken little, the boy who cried wolf, etc. I hardly even listen anymore.

"Is he still on the phone," I asked.

"Yeah."

"Transfer him to me. Have a good weekend."

I picked up the phone. And he really was pissed.

"Bartman!" I said.

"Never mind that Bartman bullshit! What the fuck are you guys doing to me here? You guys are fucking me. Hard!"

I have three rules for dealing with pissed-off people on the phone:

1. Use their name at least three times. Helps for some reason.
2. Work a joke in somehow.
3. Admit they are absolutely, 100% right on SOMETHING. Anything at all.

"I would never fuck you, man...I don't like redheads."

"Listen, I am seriously pissed the hell off! They passed this off under false pretenses! My up-front bonus is way smaller than they promised! They are robbing me!!"

"Hey Bartman, Let me tell you something," I said. "We have known each other for a long time. I would NEVER let them fuck you. If there is something wrong with this deal, I won't let it proceed. But we're closing Tuesday, so let's try to resolve this today, all right?"

"OK"

Long story short, he was looking at the wrong page, and interpreting it the wrong way. I explained the whole deal to him. He was starting to calm down, when he found something else that bothered him.

"Hey! What is this crap about first right of refusal!? These goddamn lawyers slip all kindsa crazy shit in here, figuring I won't read it...."

My BlackBerry went off. It was Lila. AT STARBUCKS. HELP! THIS ASSHOLE GEEK WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE!

God DAMMIT!! He followed her all the way to fucking Starbuck's! WTF?!

"....and these bloodsucking bastards are trying to fuck me....." Bart was saying.

I messaged her back: TELL HIM YOU ARE WAITING FOR YOUR BF.

"I hear you man, I'm gonna help you out," I said to Bart.

Lila messaged me back: TRIED THAT. WON'T LEAVE. HELP!

"Hey Bartman, I'm gonna have our bloodsucking parasite, I mean lawyer, call you on Monday with the details, but I promise you, that clause is in all the deals. It's strictly boilerplate, and we never invoke it. At least not since I've been here. It's just ass-covering."

Long pause. Sigh. "All right, Steverino."

"Hey, and just remember what they say," I said. "99% of lawyers give a bad name to all the rest."

"HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH"

"If you don't hear from him by 3:00 on Monday, call me, ok?"

"OK, Steve. Thanks a million, man."

Now, how to get Lila away from that dork....

To be continued....

Mid-day ramblings

-Lila and I will be staying at the Hilton tonight - I booked the biggest suite they had available - used some points that I had, so it will only cost me a little...

-"Tommy", my coworker, is really starting to piss me off. Tommy hired me right out of college at his little (3 person) insurance company. He took a chance on an inexperienced kid, took care of me, taught me a lot, and paid me well. He started doing really badly, and I left to come here, and he sold out to one of the big guys (you've heard the name). Then he got downsized, and I persuaded Ross to hire him here.

Technically, we are both VP's, but I have seniority over the rest of the VP's in this office, and they all informally work for me. Even Tommy.

Tommy is doing a shitty job here lately, and Ross breaks my balls on a daily basis about it. "Do you know what your friend did today?" he will ask.

"So fire him," I will say. I mean, I don't want him to get fired, but what does Ross want me to say?

"If he gets fired, it's gonna be YOU who does it," Ross says.

"As soon as you pay me your salary, I'll do your job," I say. That's usually enough to shut a boss up. Ross and I get along great though, our banter is always very sarcastic, and we like to one-up each other.

Every time something goes wrong, Tommy runs in here whining. "We're fucked," he says. "We are FUCKED!!!"

So I drop what I am doing, investigate, and usually find out that it's the business equivalent of an untied shoelace.

I don't want to seem ungrateful for giving me my start, but Tommy is a constant fucking interruption in my work.

-Meeting Lila at Starbuck's at 5:30 (hopefully); from there we are riding to the restaurant (about an hour and a half away), then shopping, then sex (A.K.A., the reason I tolerate all the other boring bullshit we will be doing). I also plan on waking her up at 2:00am for another session - those are nice.

I wonder how many times I would have to do it before I wasn't horny upon waking up?

Plotting and scheming

So, Lila calls me early this morning. It seems her mother has to work 4 hours tomorrow morning (8-12).

Normally, spending the night with Lila is difficult or impossible, because none of Lila's friends, or their parents, drive a car like mine. And if her mother sees a BMW pull up in front of the house to drop her off (with a young, handsome, sunglass-clad cat like me behind the wheel ;-) ) she would know that something was up.

BUT, when her mother isn't HOME to see who is dropping her off, that is another story altogether! So Lila is begging me to take her clothes shopping tonight, then spend the night at my house, or somewhere else. Like I said, I will benefit big time from any overnight dates.

First, I had to set her straight. "Look," I said. "We are going to be in the same office a lot of the time this summer. We gotta be very careful. And I want you to spend time with your friends and family this summer too - I have a lot going on, you know."

Silence.

"I want to be with you. I just want to keep it the way it is. OK?" I said.

"yeah," she said, very silently. Sounded like she was going to cry. Good. That means she gets it. It might actually be a good summer, if I can keep her at arm's length.

"So I asked my mother if I could go shopping for work clothes with my girlfriend Michelle tonight," she said. "And I said, 'since Michelle lives so far away, can I just stay over there?'"

"And?"

"She said yes! But the only problem is, my credit card is almost maxed, and mom doesn't have any money to loan me. So, if I come home with a pile of new clothes....."

"She's gonna wonder who your sugar daddy is."

She laughed.

"OK," I said. Come to work today. I will give you an advance on your salary, and when you start working full-time, you can pay it back out of your paycheck, so many dollars a week. You will have to sign an agreement that you will pay the money back."

"Mm-hmm..."

"Then, if your mother wants to know where the money came from, you can just show her that agreement. And tell her that you persuaded me, using oral sex, to give it to you."

"hehehehehe. You are bad, baby...." She gets turned on when we get into all this plotting and scheming.

"How much are you giving me?"

"If it's $500 or over, Ross has to sign it. So how's $450?"

"Ok!!"

"If you need more, I'll just pay for a few things. Your mother isn't going to add up the receipts. As a matter of fact, let me keep all the receipts. If we are going to be shopping 60 miles away, we don't want her to see where you were."

"Where are we going??"

"You'll find out. But bring a toothbrush."

"And what else?"

"NOTHING. I'll buy you something nice to wear to bed at the mall."

"OK baby...." she sounded way hot and bothered now. Actually, I wasn't doing too bad myself, for a guy who had just whacked off 2 hours before.

So I get to work, a little late, and a blue Honda pulls up next to me in the parking lot. The girl rolls down her window, and she looks just like a young Christina Applegate (HOT Christina Applegate, before she cut her hair and got married).

"Can you give me directions to the phone company," she said.

"The phone company? Yeah! You go out of the parking lot..."

"Yeah..."

"Then you make a left, and it's about a mile up, on your right."

Definitely couldn't let a girl like that slip away without trying something.

"So, are you applying for a job?"

"No," she laughed, "paying my bill."

"Procrastinating, huh?"

"Always."

I looked in her window - her car was a disaster.

"Me too. Looks like you clean your car about as often as I do."

"Hahahaha...you got me. But, it looks like you clean up nice for work." Was she hitting on me???

"I do what I can. My name is Steve." I shook her hand (one firm shake - that is the best way. I hate these guys who shake violently, like they are whacking you off).

"I'm Kelly," she said.

"So, Kelly, are you from around here?"

"Yeah, I live on the other side of town. And if you're working here, I guess you live nearby."

"Yeah, 15 minutes away or so. You're a really pretty girl, you know that?"

She giggled and rolled her eyes. I think she was blushing. Yeah, she was definitely into me. "I just rolled outta bed," she said.

Wonder what she looks like when she rolls INTO bed.

"So I'm sure you clean up REALLY well then," I said. A callback joke, the comedians call it.

"Hm."

"I'd love to buy you a drink tonight." PLEASE don't be a rules girl!

Oh SHIT!!! I have plans with Lila tonight!! Overnight plans! FUCK!!! What if she says 'yes'?

I am reminded of an episode of "The Brady Bunch," in which Peter has dates with two girls at the same time, and he has to keep changing clothes as he rushes from one girl to the other.

"How 'bout next week? I'm going out with the girls tonight. Bachelorette party," she said.

"So when are you getting married?" He he he he....

"Yeah, right," she said. "I haven't been on a date in months!"

"Really? Well, let me take care of that." I took out my BlackBerry. There was a message on there.

I WANT TO SUCK YOUR COCK, it said.

Lila's got to cool it with that shit.

I was disoriented for a moment. Thinking about a blow job from a hot teenager will do that to you. "So, how's next Wednesday," I said, finally.

"OK!!" She looked excited. "Let me give you my number!" She leaned over to get a piece of paper. Her shirt pulled tight against her body: Big, nice tits, no bra. Definitely gotta see her naked.

She handed me her number. "Ok, well, it's great to meet you! I'll talk to you next week!"

"Good deal!"

I ran in to the office. Do I feel another hot streak coming on? If it keeps up like this, it's going to be the best summer ever.

Ramifications and repercussions

Lila is messaging me on my BlackBerry. She wants to go "clothes shopping" for new work clothes for the summer. She is "really excited" about the promotion and "really appreciates" my helping her. Oh ya, I helped all right.

You know, come to think of it, helping her buy clothes might not be a bad thing. How often does one have input over what a chick wears?

But where are we going to do this shopping? I sure as shit am not going to show up at the mall with her, so all my co-workers can see us canoodling over Orange Julius's and Auntie Annie's pretzels.

There is going to be a major blowup if she even thinks about "outing" us as a couple. I will dump her on the spot. I am close to doing it anyway. I might even do it now, since I am starting to feel suffocated, but at this point, I have to tread lightly since she works for me. This is the part I HATE about dating someone at work: You can't just kick 'em to the curb when you want to. God dammit!!

I am going to try to go easy on her though, cause I don't think she's doing it intentionally. Hopefully, she will get with the program and be happy with things as they are. We shall see.

I suppose I should try to be happy for her. She tries really hard at work and she does do a good job for us. She is very excited about the opportunity; maybe she could make a career out of it. Who knows? I think she'd be a good executive assistant...for someone else, though. ;-) She's very organized and thorough. And she does a good job of being discreet.

The last time I took her on a "date" was in Feb. or March. I drove her an hour out of the way, to a dark little bistro in the middle of nowhere. They served her wine, too, so it musta been REAL dark. Although, she says waiters serve her all the time. Waitresses do not. Gee, wonder why that is??

She wore a long black dress, put her hair up, got a french manicure, the whole bit. I mean, this was a big deal for her. Every single head in that fucking place turned. She looked like she belonged on a red carpet somewhere...

We stayed at a four-star hotel that night ($300 a night). I gave the clerk a $50 and he hooked me up with a room with a hot tub.
That was the first night she let me fuck her in the ass. And let me tell you - "mind-blowing" doesn't do it justice. She has one of these asses that is perfectly round, soft and unspoiled. It's like two giant scoops of vanilla ice cream. Doesn't taste like it though - I checked.

There is an art to ass-fucking. You have to be patient. Especially, when it's her first time. If you watch porn, those guys all use spit to lube it up. Well, that's fine if the chick is used to sticking baseball bats up there, like most of those porn girls do. But for regular girls, you have to use KY or Astroglide. And just lube the hell out of the whole area, including your Johnson.

What I like to do is, get the head in there, pull it almost all the way out, then back in, just the head again. Then out, then in again, over and over, until you feel a little less resistance. Then you can pull the head all the way out, then put it back in, a little deeper now, then all the way out, then all the way in again. All of a sudden, you are ball-deep in asshole, and by then, she ought to be coming like crazy up front, or getting ready to.

Lila is just instinctively good in bed. She had never been ass-fucked, but she knew just how to lay down for me, flat on her stomach, ass lifted in the air. She just knew it; either that, or she's been watching a lot of pornos ;-). Watching a girl's backside wiggling while you fuck her is something that a man doesn't forget easily, I tell you.

I'm not like these rappers who like big, fat, cellulite-ridden asses, but I do like just a hint of a little jiggle - and I prefer them round and soft versus flat and hard. Britney Spears, for example, has the most incredible ass EVER. That Rolling Stone cover of her in the white panties? OH yeah.

How the hell did I get on this? Oh yeah, my date with Lila.

The next morning, she had me call her in absent to school - as her FATHER. YUCK!!!!!!! "Hello, this is Lila's dad calling. And since I fucked her till she was bow-legged last night, she's in NOOO condition to be playing tetherball in gym class today."

Anyway, it might be time for another date now...it's not like I don't get anything out of it...

I spoke to HR and had them date Lila's job offer as July 1. I told her this was best, so she would have two weeks of "summer" before she had to work every day. And I can savor my last fortnight of freedom.

Told Ross I "talked her into it"; he said, "great job - you're my man!"

Major plumbing work underway at home now. Gotta get home and work on it. Hope I don't have to take a shit!!!

Unfinished business

I talked to lawyers for 5 hours yesterday, and as my reward, the acquisition is just about a fait accompli, as they say.

Last night I did some work around the house. It is starting to look great. I bought a "fixer-upper" for 50% of what the other houses in the neighborhood go for. The place was a fucking dump, three-foot high weeds in the yard (I measured), rotten ceilings and floors, water damage, etc., etc. I didn't know a damn thing about home repair, but I like to learn and do new things. It was a headache, but I live alone and have a lot of spare time on my hands....

Today will be another busy one. But there are still a couple of things I was supposed to cover. First off, spitting vs. swallowing.

Swallowing is supposed to be the be-all and end-all when it comes to blow jobs. But think about it: You can't feel anything when she swallows a big, gooey blob of your nasty-ass jizzum - it's HER swallowing, not you - so what is the big deal? As far as I can tell, it's flattery: "Wow, she choked that stuff down just for me." No matter how slutty a girl is, she doesn't LIKE the taste. She ain't putting it in her coffee! So the idea that she would make that sacrifice is a real ego-booster.

Spitting, on the other hand, is looked at disdainfully: "Ah, she must not love me; she didn't swallow." To me, it's bullshit. What, the moment she falls in love with you, your cum suddenly tastes like pep-o-mint life savers? It's stupid.

What I like is what Lila does: When I am ready to come (she can tell), she wraps her lips around my cock, nice and tight, maybe an inch below the head. Then she strokes me, just a bit, with two fingers and a thumb, all the while maintaining eye contact (it matters!) I don't know how she does it, but she times her rubbing exactly with the muscle contractions that are going on down there as I come. I told you - she knows what she is doing!

After I come, she gently slides my dick out of her mouth (never letting go with her fingers) and waits a few seconds (a caesure, if you will) then spits my come back out, all over my throbbing manhood.

Shit, I am starting to sound like a "dime novel". And I'm getting wood too, I must confess.

Anyway, to me, this is the best way to get serviced orally. I've had spitting, swallowing, gagging, and all the rest, and nothing compares to the "spitwash".

Maybe I'll save the talk of the failed threesome until tomorrow.

In case there was any doubt...

It's been nice going to therapy. I always suspected I had psychological problems, and this has been a great way to remove any doubt whatsoever about my "mental irregularity", as Rocky Balboa would say.

Doc read my blog, and was quite pleased. In retrospect, he says, it was a good idea for me to do it this way. He didn't expect me to write nearly so much. That was the good news.

The bad news: I am worse off than he thought. He is "very, very concerned" about my "lack of impulse control".

"Listen, Doc," I said. "Why the political correctness? Why is it a foregone conclusion that I have to get married and have 2.3 children? Marriage is not for everyone; most marriages end in divorce anyway, so obviously some people are making a mistake by doing it!"

"You're not here because you don't want to get married," he smiled. "You're here because, as you said the first day, your sex life is out of control. You are taking unnecessary risks. You are jeopardizing your livelihood. These are YOUR words, not mine."

"I exaggerated a bit during the fight with Lila. It was for effect. My life isn't hanging in the balance here."

"So if your boss finds out about Lila, can you guarantee me that you'd be ok, job-wise?"

"Well, there's a policy against it. I'd probably get transferred, or demoted..."

"You're the youngest person ever to make VP in your division, right? And you're on a fast track to a very secure future."

"Yeah."

"And why are you gambling with that? What is so worth it?"

"Obviously, you haven't fucked her."

"Yeah, you have good sex. Twenty minutes later, it's over. Is it worth it? Especially since you go home and masturbate anyway? And really, how good can it be, if you are at Wal-Mart, hitting on ugly girls an hour later?"

OUCH.

"Trust me, it's good. I'm getting greedy. Maybe I need to tone it down a little."

"Maybe you need to stop."

"It's under control." FUCK. Did I just say that?

"That's an addict talking," he said. "It's under control. I can handle it. NO, you CAN'T!"

"Lila's the problem. Lila's only 17. But I'm not breaking any laws. It's legal in this state to have sex with her. But I work with her, so that was poor judgment. I agree with that. So, that's one bad choice. Am I a such a sick bastard because of one bad choice?"

"If you make that choice 5 times a week, yes!"

"It's not nearly as out of control as you imply. This kind of shit happens all the time."

"Addict."

"I am doing what any man would do, if he had the chance..."

"Addict!"

"I think I am falling in love with her."

"You are NOT falling in love with her!"

"And just how the hell would YOU know??" I was starting to lose it.

"READ YOUR FUCKING BLOG!!!!" Holy shit! Did he just drop an "F" bomb?

He put on his glasses, grabbed the pile of printouts, and started reading aloud. 'Best sex I've ever had.' '34C-22-35. Measured myself.' 'Her fingers were perfect, like a mannequin'.

"Whenever you write about Lila," he said, "there are two themes: She is hot, and she is a great lay. But you know what I don't know?"

"What?"

"Does this girl talk? I mean, can she string two sentences together? Cause, as far as I can tell, all you two do is fuck."

"Of COURSE she talks...."

"I figure, if you're really in love, you'd like talking to her. But I'm guessing you weren't doing 80 miles an hour so you could TALK to her. I'm guessing if she were disfigured in an accident tomorrow, you'd be gone."

Amen to that!

"So would a lot of people," I said.

"A lot of people are together for the wrong reasons. Just like you said."

"We talk. I didn't mention it in my blog. It doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"You wrote about what was on your mind. And what was on your mind was FUCKING."

That brings the "F" bomb count to 3, incidentally. Perhaps I should notify the AMA. He he he...

"I'm sure she's a nice girl. And I am sure she's great in bed. Just don't tell me you're in love with her. Think about the most in-love couple you know. Who are they?"

"Jerry and Ann. An older Jewish couple."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, they help each other out, without asking. They are THERE for each other. And they LIKE each other. They enjoy each other's company. And they speak fondly of each other when they are not together. Sometimes Ann will remark that she hasn't been spending much time with him lately, and she will go out of her way...."

"Do you and Lila do any of that?"

"I got it." Enough already. Prick.

"So what," I said. "you want me to dump her?"

"I don't want you to do anything. I want YOU to decide. If you don't see a problem, don't do anything. It's your call."

"Life is full of risks," I said. "You got in your car and drove here today. Risk. You walk down a busy street. Risk. You eat at restaurants that could be serving you food poisoning. Risk. I don't buy that I am supposed to just sit home, shaking, in an empty bathtub, and not live my life."

"I'm not saying don't live your life! I'm not saying don't take a risk! I'm not saying don't have sex! I'm not even saying don't screw around a lot! I'm just saying that you're not being smart about it!!"

"So I'm an idiot now?"

"NO! You're a smart guy. And you know what else? You express yourself very well. You are very in touch with your own feelings."

"Really?"

"That Mona Lisa story you told was AMAZING. There is some terrific writing in that blog! You have so many talents - you have the potential to live a full, happy life. DON'T BLOW IT!"

Yawn. 1......2......3.......

FUCK HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I left his office, wondering if Lila was free. Or anyone else, for that matter.

I make Lila an offer she must refuse

"Lila, I need to see you at 2:30 for 15 minutes"

"What about?"

"Nothing important." I always say that. Ross was right; it is better to have an employee on their toes, not knowing what to expect.

So she comes into my office, and I tell her to sit down. She got a little pale.

"Ross spoke to me about you today."

"What did I do?"

"He's all high on this idea of a live receptionist. He wants you here full-time. He's willing to give you a raise."

"What? That's AWESOME!"

"Wait," I said. "Remember that file purge you did last year, that you hated so much?"

"Ugh. Yes. You mean I would have to do THAT again?"

"Not exactly. Remember that acquisition I was working on? Well, when that is done, in about 2-3 weeks, we are going to have a file MERGE, which is harder than a purge, which will take a month or so."

"I HATE that kinda shit."

"I know. I need to know by tomorrow, though...."

"Uh. Ok, I'll take it."

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!

"COOL! I'll call HR and have them start the paperwork! I recommend you go on the health insurance. It's all company paid, so you might as well. Oh, and you should start a 401(k) too."

This is bad news. It's gonna be a LLLOOOOOOOOOONG summer.

History of Lila, part I

I am getting pretty long-winded on this thing. Let me try and break it down quickly:

It was late autumn, 2003. I was shopping at the Gap. Not shopping, really, looking for girls. The customers are hot; the employees are even better.

Sure enough, I see Lila there, folding sweaters. I was looking for a gift for my mother, see, and I needed a LOT of help.

Got her to open up a little bit. She hated her job, her boss was a slave-driving bitch. She worked every weekend, and only got $7.50 an hour.

"Hmmm," I said, looking like I was trying to solve a calculus problem. "I tell you what. Do you know how to answer a phone?"

"Answer a phone? Yes!"

"If you're interested, I'll hire you as a receptionist for $10 an hour. Here's my card. Call me."

Then I hurried up and got the hell out of there. With no sweater.

Sure enough, she called the next day, and I persuaded my boss that we needed a live person to answer the phone and take care of some filing. He bought into the idea, obviously.

You have to be careful how you hit on an employee. You have to make it look like it's serendipitous, like it is "fate" that is bringing you together.

Once, she asked me to donate to some charity race she was running in. So I donated twice as much as anyone else on the list, and showed up to congratulate her. I brought one of those 10-gallon drink dispensers (filled with Gatorade) and some cookies for the runners....she came up and thanked me for coming, and I thought I could see that certain something in her eye.

Every once in a while, she would complain about her mom working late, and having to bum rides off her friends. I let it go the first few times, not wanting to seem too anxious. Finally, one day I said, "Hey, if it's not too far, I could give you a ride..."

"In the Bimmer!!?" She said.

"Nah, I have the minivan today."

"HUH?"

"Just kidding."

After that, I drove her home every once in a while. Never tried anything. By then I kind of had my eye on the Christmas party. Sure enough, she showed up loaded and started talking my ear off about some guy who cheated on her (what kind of idiot was HE, BTW?). I asked her if she needed a ride home. She did.

"You are soo cool," she said. Then she kissed me.

"Hey," I said as she got out of the car.

"Yeah?"

"I really want to kiss you again. Preferably on Christmas Eve."

And the rest, as they say, is history.

The executives' meeting

I was on the phone with an attorney about the acquisition, so I was 10 minutes late for the exec meeting. I walked in to the meeting and "Ross", my boss, was there with 3 other VP's.

"I'm not happy," he said. I could see him flexing his jaw. Shit. Was he on to me and Lila?

All eyes turned to me. I was careful not to change my expression. "What about," I inquired nonchalantly.

"You know, I read that when employees are on the defensive, they pay closer attention to the meeting. So I wanted to start out on that note."

"What was that?" I said, "I wasn't listening!"

The room erupted with laughter.

"It's about your secretary."

OH FUCKING SHIT.

Still, no change in my face. If Ross didn't know what was going on, I didn't want to clue him in. "What about her?"

"I'm getting compliments. She's doing a great job."

"She's VERY complimentary," said Doug the Dork. All his fellow dorks giggled.

"So what's the problem?"

"Our customers like a human being on the other end of the line. But she's only here 20 hours a week. Let's get away from this goddamn voice mail shit. What would it take to bring her on full-time?"

OH, NO. NO fucking way. Absolutely not. I know girls. She is going to take this as some kind of "sign" that we are meant to be together. NFW. This is a non-starter. Gotta shoot it down somehow.

"Well, Ross," I said, "she's in high school, you know."

"She graduates this year," Doug said. "She told me!"

"OOOOOOO, she told you," said Bob the Dork. "What's going on with you two anyway??!!" More giggles.

I tried not to laugh. Every one of those pencil necks were probably pounding out nightly with her face clearly focused in their minds' eyes.

"So, make her an offer. Give her a raise if you have to! I want someone on those phones FULL TIME!"

"Well, I think she's going to college in the fall, boss. Do we really want to get people used to it, then take her away again?" It was lame, I know, but the best I could do.

"If she leaves, hire someone else. Obviously, you have an eye for talent."

"Talent!" mumbled one of the geeks. More giggles.

Sigh.

"PLEASE!" said Ross.

"OK, boss," I said. "I'll make it happen."

I HAVE to find a way to stop this. I can't have her in the office full-time. It's hard enough with her there half the time!

How appropos...

For some reason, I am reminded of the song "Dogs" by Pink Floyd. It sums me up perfectly. Here are the lyrics:


You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need.
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street,
you gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed.
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight,
you gotta strike when the moment is right, without thinking.

And after a while you can work on points for style,
like the club tie and the firm handshake,
a certain look in the eye and an easy smile.
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to,
so that when they turn their backs on you,
you'll get the chance to put the knife in.
You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder.
You know it's going to get harder, and harder and harder as you get older.
And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south,
hide your head in the sand,
just another sad old man,
all alone and dying of cancer.

And when you lose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown.
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone.
And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around.
So have a good drown as you go down, alone,
dragged down by the stone.

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused.
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used.
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise.
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my own way out of this maze?

Deaf, dumb and blind, you just keep on pretending
that everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend.
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner.
And everything's done under the sun,
and you believe a heart, everyone's a killer.

Who was born in a house full of pain,
who was trained not to spit in the fan,
who was told what to do by the man,
who was broken by trained personnel,
Who was fitted with collar and chain,
who was given a seat in the stand,
who was breaking away from the pack,
who was only a stranger at home,
who was ground down in the end,
who was found dead on the phone,
who was dragged down by the stone.

I highlighted the most relevant passage.

Deep shit.

Stay tuned, I'll be right back.

Today's schedule

Today is going to be crazy. I'll try to blog when I can.

I have an executives' meeting this morning. Figure two hours for that one. Then, I have an appointment with Doc after work. He's gonna have a field day with me, I think.

I also have a big merger I am working on, and I will be on the phone with lawyers all frigging day.

Joy.