divorcedlondon

As promised I’m back again.

Sometimes I’m actually as good as my word. Bet you never thought a salesman would ever say that!

My week has continued as I predicted, it’s been very dull.

It’s amazing to me how little I actually have to do most days. It only confirms something I’ve always suspected; the more senior you become in a company, the less that’s actually expected of you.

My department is a case in point; it pretty much runs itself.

All of my senior sales executives are very good at what they do and they certainly don’t need much guidance, advice or support from me. They all know the clients and our products and services better than I ever will, so I’m not really certain what I could possibly contribute to that!

I know I haven’t been here that long but I’ve yet to do anything significant or noteworthy. I think the most significant thing I’ve done so far is actually get this job. Beyond that, there really is fuck-all to do.

Even better, the MD keeps telling me what a great job I’m doing! He says he’s impressed at how I’ve just quietly slotted into the organisation and he says he chose wisely in hiring me. Who am I to argue with his flawless logic!

I don’t really know what I expected; I guess I just thought I’d have a lot more to do here. If I’d know being a departmental director was this piss-easy, I would have sought promotion much sooner!

The best part of my new job is the performance related bonuses.

Why?

Because it doesn’t actually have anything to do with my personal performance! It’s all down to my department and they are already exceeding sales targets from this time last year and it’s not even the middle of the first month of the year!

It doesn’t seem to matter that all this new business coming in this month was actually sought before I even worked here. All that’s happened this month is a few crossed “T’s” and dotted “I’s” and for my my fortunate timing, I see a big wodge of dosh drop into my bank account in the form of a fat bonus. Result!


I’m not complaining, not even a little. I know how lucky I am to have this new job, especially at this point in my life. Jobs like mine that pay well and have little actual responsibility don’t grow on trees!

If they did, I’d plant a forest and offer them to all of my fans!

A typical day for me goes something like this:

I arrive at work around ten in the morning and buy a latte from the coffee cart in reception of the building. There’s a really hot Aussie girl that works on it and I usually flirt with her while she brews my coffee. She is really attractive, tall and quite slim but with a peach shaped ass that I’d love to fondle!

I don’t flirt with her so much now, since she mentioned she was only seventeen. I’ve had enough of younger women creeping into my life! This is one I will not pursue!

I also stop to chat with one of the security guards, a South African guy named Hans. He’s probably late-twenties, always smiling and friendly and he speaks with a clipped accent that I didn’t recognise, so I had to ask him where he was from.

Hans is ex-South African Special Forces, which means he’s probably one hard bastard, but to talk to him, you wouldn’t know it. He’s a really nice guy.

He’s staying here in London, in a bed-sit, making decent dosh as a security guard and he’s planning on returning to South Africa in the next year or two with enough money to buy himself a house. He’s an enterprising young man!

He also told me that lots of South Africans are here in the UK, working as he’s doing; many of them in the security profession. Chances are, if you’re working in London too, you’ve probably got a few South Africans protecting your building as well.

Hans is probably one of the nicest people I’ve met in the office and he’s always good for a laugh. He’s got a wee crush on the Australian coffee cart girl and I’ve been coaching him a bit on how to pick her up. With me advising him, he can’t go wrong!

Just because I can’t have her, doesn’t mean I can’t help a mate to pull her! Maybe I can live vicariously through him just this once!

It’s weird, but I think I’m probably friendlier with my two new mates from reception than I am with anyone else in my company.

I usually arrive at my desk by around quarter past ten. Terry, my assistant is there already and probably has been since at least nine-thirty, maybe even nine. He’s very dependable and reliable; two admirable qualities in a personal assistant. He’s ready for me when I get there, with a list of my commitments for the day. Usually, there aren’t any. He also has any phone messages of which there are precious few.

I bet if I didn’t buy my own latte, Terry would get one for me. He’s always offering to get me coffee or tea, but I’m funny that way, I like to get my own drinks.

I inherited Terry; he worked for my predecessor. As good as he is, I doubt I would have hired him myself. Call me old fashioned, but I would have picked a woman and a hot one at that, to be my personal assistant!

At around ten-thirty, we have a daily sales meeting, which again I inherited from my predecessor. I’m not big on meetings, I find they are a waste of time, but my department seems to relish this chance to impress me so I’ve continued the tradition.

We convene in a large conference room that we have reserved every day at this time and each of the sales teams, led by a senior account exec, present whatever it is they’re working on that day or updates on on-going accounts. I don’t contribute much, but I do pay attention.

Why?

Because just after eleven I stroll informally into the MD’s office and brief him on the latest developments. Everything I tell him comes from this informal morning meeting, but he doesn’t know that! He thinks I’m doing a bang-up job keeping track of everything!

My job is really just smoke and mirrors and it didn’t take me long to figure that out. I don’t actually do anything, I just create the illusion that I’m in charge and I’ve got an entire department helping me to maintain this façade.

After my informal meetings, I return to my office to further the illusion of activity. I’ve been bringing my PoweBook in with me, so I can work on my blog and surf those naughty sites I enjoy, without it ending up on the browser history of my desktop PC. The IT department were happy to provide me with a login to the company’s wireless network, which means my laptop is connected to the internet!

I spend an hour or so each morning checking the adverts on my sleazy contact sites and I check them periodically throughout the day. I’m also putting up more adverts of my own, since I’m able to keep an eye on my private email accounts from my laptop as well. Right now, I’m probably running around half-a-dozen personal adverts on craigslist and Gumtree, but you’ll never find them!

The other website I check is that new one I’ve mentioned in such glowing terms, that lists all sorts of links to commercial sex opportunities. Specifically, the day’s list of available escorts; which indeed does change daily.

I think I’m getting a bit addicted to this website, but that’s easily done when confronted with so many hot young women available for home visits! It’s like the ultimate sex take-away menu that delivers!

I’ve also used some of my free time at work this to write this entry. I’m trying to be more considered in my writing and I’m taking my time with every word I write. I only hope it shows.

Once lunchtime arrives, I’m free to leave my office. I can really go out for as long as I want, all I need to say is I’ve got a meeting. No one questions me, because I’m the boss!

Like last week, I was probably out for over three hours that day I met Doug for lunch. No one blinked an eye!

I’ve also met Bob a couple of times for lunch since I started; his office is not too far away. This new bird in Bob’s life is making him a bit dull.

I’ve been again pushing him for a lad’s night out to the lapdancing club, but he hasn’t been interested. I really think it’s all down to the new bird. I’m sure it will pass!

After my lengthy lunch break, I return to the office. Terry’s still there, with any messages but again there aren’t usually any.

From there I ride out the rest of the day as I’ve started, making myself available to my staff should they require my input for any reason.

Normally they don’t, but it seems some of them make a point of consulting with me, just to be seen to be doing it. A little ass-kissing never hurts!

I do occasionally get some interesting visitors. For example, “Jenny”, one of the candidates for that senior sales opening tries a couple of times a day to get an audience with me.

I caught her unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her blouse before dropping by yesterday. Glass walls reveal all! She didn’t see me clocking this, but I did. She certainly gets an “A” for effort, though I expect her husband doesn’t have a clue just how career oriented she really is.

Basically, “Jenny” has let me know in no uncertain terms that she’s sexually available to me. She thinks this might secure this promotion.

She might be right!

The other candidate, “Ginny” continues to be shy and awkward around me and isn’t really doing herself any favours.

If she hadn’t impressed me at the Christmas party with her ideas and suggestions, I probably would have discounted her from the race already. She’s definitely sharper and more innovative than “Jenny”, but I know “Jenny” would do anything to close a deal.

It’s a tricky decision for yours truly! I still don’t know which way it will go. I’m trying to keep an open mind.

Further to that, I’m holding the formal interviews next week. It’s all arranged with the HR person, we’ll do “Jenny” on Tuesday and “Ginny” on Wednesday. That means come next Thursday, I should be able to announce who gets the post.

My work calendar is actually quite full next week, relatively speaking, as in addition to the interviews and decision, I’m joining the Creative Director and his team with members of mine, for a big sales presentation on Thursday.

The CD is a twat and a half, so this should be very entertaining! Obviously, I can’t mention the prospective client, but it’s a large firm that I expect you’ve heard of before!

One other person I met at the Christmas party also came to see me. He’s a junior accountant from the finance department and he’s also the office coke dealer. For the purposes of my blog, I’ll call him “Wheeler” the dealer.

“Wheeler” has to be in his early twenties; he’s thin, a bit spotty and wears cheap suits that are slightly too big for him. He’s got a thick cockney accent, quite a high-pitched voice and seems to fancy himself as a real wide-boy.

I reckon if he didn’t punt coke, no one would talk to him. As it stands, he seems like one of the most popular people in the office. I wonder if there’s a connection to his coke dealing?

He popped in to see me a couple of days ago, following up on a brief conversation we had at the party. I mentioned to him I might want to buy some charlie.

“Wheeler” speaks quickly and can be hard to understand, but I paid close attention. He asked if he could drop the blinds on the glass wall in my office. Once he did, he offered to lay out some lines on my desk.

I might like to party, but I’ve never actually snorted anything in the middle of the day at work before.

Naturally, I said “yes”. It would have been rude not to.

He had a fancy snorting kit, with a razor, small mirror and metal straw kept in a velvet pouch. He put out a half a dozen hefty lines down. Then he offered me the shiny silver straw and let me go first.

“Wheeler” told me that he likes a little pick-me-up during the day, as do many of our colleagues. I knew I’d like working here!

As soon as I tried it, I knew it was not the same as the stuff I get from Elvis. It felt coarser and burned the inside of my nose more. I don’t know why. Elvis’s stuff tends to cleaner, I guess.

“Wheeler” asked me if I liked it and in truth, I did. The rush came as expected, but also seemed different from what I’m used to. He then asked if I wanted to buy some.

I asked him if he did a deal (like Elvis) where you pay for six grams and receive seven. He told me he never heard of such a thing, he did grams for sixty quid or half-grams for thirty-five.

Half grams? I know I’m not that experienced with this stuff, but that doesn’t sound like much, does it? I guess not everyone can afford to spend on the stuff like I do.

He told me he had two grams with him, but was expecting more at the end of the week. I grabbed the two, right then and there. Yes, it was pricier than Elvis, but it can’t hurt to have a second source.

Since then, “Wheeler” has checked back with me almost daily, to see if I want more. At some point, I will, but I still have some of Elvis’s stuff at home, so I’m in no real need at present.

“Wheeler” seems like an OK guy, but he’s young and quite immature. As long as he keeps his mouth shut about our little transactions, I don’t really mind!

I usually stick around the office until just after six in the evening, earlier if the MD has left already. Basically, I leave after he does and not before as again it creates the right illusion.

It seems most nights, a crowd from the office go to a local pub for after-work drinks, but I’ve given it a miss so far. The directors don’t tend to show their faces at the pub, unless there’s a good reason and so far there hasn’t been one. I suppose at some point, I should make an appearance, put a bit of dosh behind the bar, but I’m not in any rush.

I’m making an effort to keep my social life and work life completely separate. I am not going to fuck this job up!

One weird thing from work:

I put my Christmas present from my ex-wife on my desk and it’s attracted some attention and questions from my colleagues that’s left me confused.

It’s a picture of my baby daughter, who looks adorable! She’s got a big smile on her face, though my wife says it’s just a bit of gas!

People keep asking me the same thing when they notice the photo and it’s starting to make me wonder things I shouldn’t.

What do they ask?

They ask who it is in the picture! And when I tell them it’s my daughter, they all seem surprised!

Who else’s picture would I have displayed prominently on my desk?

They’ve all said she doesn’t look anything like me? Do four-month-old infants look like anyone?

Bob said something like that; so did “Candy”.

Ok, she’s got deep blue eyes and mine are brown. So what? Her hair is still blonde, but that’s meaningless according to my wife. She also said a baby’s hair sometimes falls out and comes back another colour!

I’m starting to have thoughts I shouldn’t be having. I’m starting to wonder if my ex-wife is trying to pull another fast one on me.

Should I be worried? I don’t honestly know, but if my ex-wife’s track record is anything to go by, this might be a question that requires an urgent answer!

All I know is I love my little girl so much it hurts! Maybe I shouldn’t even be asking these questions, even of myself. I’ve been trying not to think about it, but it’s been nagging at me more and more.

Oh and before I sign off, I suppose an update to my sex life is in order. There’s really not much to report, I haven’t had anyone since that whore last week.

As I mentioned, I have been advertising extensively on the sleazy sites and I’m doing an email dance with three different women at the moment. One of them is bound to be willing to meet me for my style of discreet fun this weekend. I’ve got Saturday night free and available and I’m ready to entertain!

Expect nothing less than full disclosure on my discreet fun in my next entry!