Alexa and the Japs by Daniel Beaudoin

I was lucky once already today. I hope fortune strikes again.

The Japanese are coming in for the third time, bringing in the big guns this time. Senior management is shitting bricks and this time I am the designated point man to baby-sit the sales meeting.

With five minutes left to go before the delegates arrive, I apply the final touches to our company's proposal and go over my notes one last time just to double check that I get their names right. God forbid I shame our guests over miss-pronounced names. We don't want to start a third world war, right?

I move to the elevators to welcome them, and the men surge forward in dark grey uniforms, the women shuffle obediently behind, smiling. I target their head honcho and respond with the rituals of smiles and head nodding. Our guests will be secretly amused as we go through our 101 on Japanese business ethics: we receive the cards in both hands and look at them with fierce and respectful concentration as if we are just about to take the dump of our lives. They will do the same, we will bow a couple of times and I'll pray that my fucking back doesn’t pull out again as it did last month in Tokyo.

In the conference room, the introductions seem to carry on for a lifetime. Shit, it's not as we've never met. With everyone finally in their seats, and 14 pairs of eyes turned to me as if I was the Messiah incarnate, I open with my presentation and come straight to the point: "We realize you want us to be sincere with this project, but we too have our reservations and want to make sure that everyone is on board and not dragging their feet".

My pager vibrates against my hip and while I wait for the translator to finish I sneak a glance. It's Alexa. And when the fuck can I meet her at the bar?

My boss picks up from my introduction. It felt pleasantly cool suddenly. I welcome the moment and sit down; and think of this morning.

Only two hours ago. Alexa, sitting on her haunches, her sex folded outward like an over-ripe pomegranate. The way she smiled lazily as she rolled the joint, her cunt barely touching the tip of my cock. The way she inhaled and gently moves up and down the head of my shaft. In the background, I hang on to the sound of the bells from Police’s Synchronicity as they toiled from one corner of my mind to the other. And she takes me inside her.

The tidy clapping of hands startles me. My boss has finished his pitch and I look around to see if I had missed anything. It is time to regroup and herd the group back to the elevators. More smiles, more nods and bows and I take the fucking elevator down with them.

Alexa is waiting for me at the bar.

Daniel Beaudoin a business man and university lecturer and manages to conceal the fact that he is a demented crazy man.

7 comments:

B said...

Somehow- for this guy anyway- Alexa makes it all worth while. Nice job Daniel!!

Sean Patrick Reardon said...

Wow, the change after the pager vibrates whacked me in the face like a hammer. Well written and excellent er, imagery. Some of it, guess which part, had a Bret Easton Ellis vibe to it.

David Barber said...

What a way to get through a meeting! A very well written debut, Daniel. I hope to see you coming back with more!

Daniel said...

Thanks folks, lovely to see my first piece published.

Paul D. Brazill said...

Smashing bit of FFO!

kurtnewton said...

Wow, I like that juxtaposition of images. Great metaphor for business dealings. I'll never look at pomegranates the same!

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