Twenty of Two – The Infamous They – Pt. 56


Featured image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay

She’s Human Resources, not management. That explains why the eye candy greeter was here. To put sacrificial lambs at ease. Unless there was a sniper across the street using an optical scope without a laser sight, this lamb wasn’t going alone or along with the plan.

After a moment of us staring at each other, she broke first. Reaching in her briefcase she said “We noticed you used an ATM on the way here. Rather risky in a big city.” She pulled out an envelop with a wad of cash in it and slid it over to me. I had no illusions. It wasn’t a gift. They took it out of one of my accounts.

“How come it took you twelve hours to make a four hour drive?” she queried.

“I needed sleep. You’ve already seen the charge” I responded.

“You had the prior night off” she responded.

“I was traveling with Henry” I responded. “Nobody can sleep in the kind of roach motel he likes, especially with him around. Since you’re HR, I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. If not, invite him up for a day. Let him bake you some cod for a nice get to know you lunch.”

Her lips twitched in what might have been the beginnings of a smile or just a suppression of anger at my smugness. It was then I noticed even her lipstick was cheap. It was that waxy kind drug stores sell for one dollar or less. After it’s on a while it dries and starts to show cracks when a woman’s lips move.

Every woman who has let herself go like this will eventually utter the phrase “back in my day I had some looks.” This woman never had a day. This woman was the kind of female who killed or had killed any man who even thought about making a pass at her. Honestly I didn’t think she had actually killed anyone. No guy could get that drunk and still be functional. Maybe Melony was right? Now that I think about it, I’m staring across the table at a WIMINS.

The glass conference room door opened behind me and I heard the voice of the pretty little thing then turned to see the people she was introducing. When I saw them I could not help myself. If they were brought here to kill me I was going to one final belly laugh. In my best puppet from the movie “Magic” voice I chanted:

Oh Joy! Oh Joy! The circus is here!

The Circus is Here!

They’re bald, they’re horny and they are oh so queeeeeer!

Oh Joy! Oh Joy! The Circus is here!

I really have been at this business too long. These three break into shit eating grins standing there in their sprayed on black stretch pants and white knit shirts with black stripes going cross ways.

Usually when one sees three guys together the impulse is to call them Moe, Larry and Curly, but I like The Three Stooges too much. Instead I call them Giant, Stretch and Slim.

“You guys just get out of mime class?” I asked.

“Mr. Branson! We will not tolerate language of a discriminatory nature at this company!” bellowed the HR woman.

“We actually did just get out of mime school” piped up Giant.

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