So I’m about as knowledgeable about women as a rat is about massages. Forgive me.
First thing I do that Monday is to look her up on Facebook. Sure enough, there are enough pictures of her there to make for an art exhibition. Nothing sleazy or dirty though. Just…pictures.
I ‘steal’ the most detailed ones and have a small confab with my secretary – the same one who looks at me like I’m Dominoes Ice-Cream. Meh.
Next move? Konga for some quick shopping.
I buy some expensive lingerie…the most expensive I can find. And for an embarrassing moment I lose myself in the sights of delightful intimate female bits.
I sigh and shake my head, pulling myself together. It’s been a while.
I have a moment of misgivings. Is this the best thing I can come up with? What’s the worst that can happen?
I laugh. It’s too late for cold feet now.
Placing the order for three overtly-sensual pieces, I fill in the address and name and then pay via MasterCard. The package is scheduled.
I also ask my secretary; who is turning out to be quite the asset where I can order roses. She blushes, flutters her eyes and scribbles a number for me. I order half-a-dozen white roses and schedule them for delivery after three working days. I assume if everything goes right with Konga she should be getting it around that time.
Grinning happily, I begin the day’s work. We have a meeting with said client Friday.
I won’t be surprised if she does not show up. I hope my boss isn’t.