If you travel to the opposite coast several times a year, it can be pretty tedious to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the same salesperson every day, no matter how much you enjoy his or her company. No matter how much I enjoy being wined and dined at Los Angeles' best restaurants, sometimes I just want a night in the hotel with room service and cable television.
And chances are, they probably have their own moments of, "Oh, Jesus, I have to eat ANOTHER meal with this mouthy New York chick?"
So as a service to my LA salespeople, I've found myself a West Coast playmate.
I picked him out about a year ago.
He was at the time the lead sheetfed pressman at one of my vendors; he recently moved to our other LA vendor where he is now the daytime sheetfed supervisor. Totally not my type. Anyone who knows me knows that my type runs toward the Big, Dumb, and Galooty, and I have been more than vocal in my disdain for redheaded men (I've always believed that while red hair on women is beautiful, exotic, and sexy, I've always characterized it as a birth defect in men).
Dave is short (again, going against type, with my current NYC Special Naked Friend standing 6'4"), no taller than me, with a head of flaming red hair, but he has a certain twinkle in his eye that got my attention. Oh, and a tight little surfer's body. You know how it is -- when you meet someone simpatico and you look at each other and you both kind of cock your head to the side like you're hearing something? And you say to yourself, "Huh. I think I need to have that."
So, now I've got a playmate for those nights when I just want to order room service and roll around naked on an acre of bed with a furry little Redheaded Sex Monkey.
Ain't life grand?
2 comments:
You just need a way to explain that to LA salesperson.
See, that's the beauty of being the client. I don't really need to explain anything!
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