Tuesday, June 03, 2014
Speaking of sausage...
After I'd been in the job for some time my boss was scheduled to have a common outpatient procedure with his urologist. Apparently even a billion dollars should only be split among so many heirs. There are a few things one must do to prepare for this procedure in order to facilitate recovery. The great thing about being a billionaire is that you don't have to do those things yourself. Which is how I found myself wandering the streets of Manhattan's Midtown West looking for a jock strap.
By far the saddest and most humiliating stop on this tour of unlikely establishments was a fancy mountain climbing and camping store. My hopes had already been dashed at several nearby drug stores. I mean, they sell slings for your arm and no skid pads for your cane why not this slightly more intimate no skid sling that I needed? I slunk into the high end store and began to wander. I had no idea where the jock straps might be kept so I bounced from the water bottle section (surely not!) to the shoe section (I don't know, maybe they'd be lumped in with the socks) and finally found myself listlessly wandering the men's clothing section (why didn't I start here?) hoping to ambush a display of rugged intimate apparel.
Just as I was about to depart the store and pound the pavement some more I was approached by a sales associate. He was, of course, not just any sales associate. He was gorgeous. He had the fitness required at such an establishment. His hair was braided in this incredibly compelling way. He was a little taller than me but not much. His skin was smooth and dark. When he spoke he was genuine and kind. "Can I help you find anything?"
Oh god no. My mind raced. Well, yes, but before I tell you please know that it's for my boss. He's having a...procedure. I'm an actress! I just needed the money while I'm getting back on my feet from going away to school. But...yes...I am hoping that you have this item....for my boss....he's very old, this is just the way he does things I wouldn't do this normally in a job. I mean, I would, I'm a good employee! I know this is weird, though. I'm not this weird normally. I mean I am but...I get his hearing aids cleaned, too!
What came out of my mouth, though, was the simple truth, "Yes. I was wondering, do you sell jock straps?"
His eyes widened. So did mine. "No, we don't."
I raced out of the store cursing fate. I hope he didn't get reprimanded for not asking me if there was anything else he could help me with. The most beautiful man I'd had the pleasure to address in, probably, years and this is what happened.
My tenure at that job was riddled with indignities but the jock strap incident had to have been the first that punctured my soul.
As told by Kizz Robinson at 12:02 PM