Three's No Crowd
Date: 04.02.2010
Keywords: No, Three's, Crowd,
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"Just to let you know, Lorrie," I said, before taking a deep breath so that I could complete my voice mail message. "My presentation this afternoon went real well. I think I got them all pumped on our products. There isn't much going on tonight and we'll be finished with the sales meeting in the morning. Tell Jack that I spent a lot of time with Brian Hightower during the golf outing and that I'll be heading home before noon tomorrow. Expect to see me in the office by three or so. Forward all calls to my voice mail so I can pick them up when I get in. Thanks Lorrie. See you when I get in!"
Satisfied that I had covered all the bases, I touched the End button on my cell phone and leaned back onto the overstuffed lounge chair. My feet were aching from standing around all afternoon during my presentation and it would feel good to get up to my room and slip off my so-called "comfortable" shoes and put my feet up for awhile. You never know how these distributor's sales meetings can go. Sometimes there're pretty lively, like the one last year hosted by United Tools in The Bahamas; sometimes there're pretty tame like this one at the Myrtle Beach Hyatt hosted by Industrial Power Supply. At least it wasn't lame like the one in Des Moines when the power went out.
After spending two days listening to everyone else hawk their lines, I had finally gotten my chance this afternoon and felt pretty good about it. Hopefully all my hard work will pay off with some increased sales. I'll make some nice chitchat at the working breakfast in the morning, shake a few hands, and be ready to fly out by noon. That left just this evening. I was tired of going out to eat and considered ordering room service and catching the Thursday Night football game. Maybe then I could just finish off a couple of Jack Ds on the rocks and turn in for the night.
The hotel lounge was pleasant enough, one of those pseudo bookish English Club affairs, lots of dark wood, half-filled bookshelves, hunting mementos, knick-knacks, and the cracking fireplace. The TV up by the bar ran financial news with the sound turned off. The young stud bartender and the old maid waitress were trying to keep everyone watered.
Some of the other people from the meeting were sitting around as well, joking and carrying on. One of the guys from St. Louis--Lyle or Kyle or something like that--waved me over for a drink. Although I had gotten pretty loaded the night before and was going to take it easy tonight, I figured I'd join him and his pals for a bit, even if they were rude and crass and obnoxious. Kyle's money paid for my drinks just as well as my own.
"So tell us Derek," Dave, one of his pals asked, as slipped into the chair next to Kyle at the bar, "You get lucky last night?"
"Define lucky," I replied.
"Hell, you guys know as well as me that old Derek is the man!" said Ron, another of their group. "I remember a couple of years ago at the Tech-Motive meeting in Cleveland. I was 'repping' for them back then. I remember by midnight old Derek here has these two beautiful married broads up in the hospitality suite stark naked and dancing for the whole lot of us!"
"I can tell my reputation precedes me," I replied modestly.
"I remember that meeting," added Dave. "The one's husband kept calling on her cell phone asking when she was coming home. Man, what a night!"
"So what's your secret," Kyle asked.
"Yeah, what line works best?" Ron asked.
"No secret, guys," I said with a shrug. "No tricks, really! I don't know. I must have a face that women feel comfortable with. I'm honest, I don't bullshit them, I don't ask them to do anything they don't want to. That and a strong drink and a piece of candy works every time!"
They all laughed and Kyle slapped me on the back. I'm sure they didn't believe me, but it was the truth. All right, I'm okay with my looks, tall with blue eyes and dark hair, and I keep myself in shape, but I never really thought of myself as a ladies man, although everybody else seems to think I am. I just love women, pretty women, and they seem to love me.
"So you didn't answer my question," Dave said. "D'you score last night?"
"I went on the bar-hopping tour bus with the guys from California," I said and noticed them shaking their heads. "This is a business trip, remember."
It was for me. I took this event very seriously even while trying to have a good time doing so. Between Jack's engineering know-how and my salesmanship we had built our company up from nothing to doing over ten million a year in a little over five years. Maybe being successful and looking the part helped me along with the ladies. It certainly couldn't have hurt. The mixed sound of voices echoed through the doorway coming from the meeting rooms.
"Sounds like the Teacher's Association for Lesbian Rights is letting out!" Kyle blurted out.
"What a shame!" added Dave. "Such great looking broads, but we couldn't get anywhere with them last night!"
"Yeah," chuckled Ron, the other pal. "Kyle musta bought them a dozen rounds of drinks last night before he found out that their rope swings the wrong way!"
"You'd have your work cut out with that bunch," Kyle remarked to me.
Through the doorway burst the happy group, sounding as if they were quite glad that their meetings were over. There were maybe a dozen ladies, mostly in their twenties and thirties, dressed in business casual attire, denim shirts or knit polo shirts with slacks, although a few wore skirts or business suits. Moving into the bar, they took up residence on the other end of the bar from our group. The bartender hustled over to help them quench their thirst.
"Dykes!" muttered Kyle under his breath.
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," chuckled Dave.
"Just as long as they let me watch!" roared Ron.
I smiled from embarrassment at their lame jokes and glanced toward the noisy group that was filling up the bar. A woman is a woman to me, regardless of her orientation. If she likes men, I'm her man; if she likes girls, I'm her pal. When a couple of young women took the stools next to me, I tried to check out their nametags to see what group they were with. They were maybe in their late twenties. The one closest to me was a shapely blonde with cool green eyes wearing a white golf shirt and khakis; the other was a shorter brunette with big dark eyes and a flirtatious smile, wearing a crisp denim work shirt and dark slacks. The brunette whispered something to her friend, who smiled and turned to face me.
"If you're gonna take a look, Darlin'," the blonde said in a cool, husky voice. "You might as well get an eyeful."
Obviously she misunderstood my glance because she stood up from her stool and thrust her breasts almost into my face. Startled, I tried to pull my face back and nearly fell off the stool. Kyle and the boys laughed loudly.
"I'm sorry," I stammered. "But I wasn't staring at your, uh, obvious charms, nice as they are and all. I was just trying to read your name tag."
"Well, then, Darlin'," she replied, reaching out to grab me by the ears and pull me back toward her very nice pair. "Maybe this will help. Or do you need glasses?"
Her breasts were so close now that I could see their supple shape curving up from her pink satin bra through her shirt and was also able to get a strong whiff of her perfume, very light, very, rich, and very feminine. I could also see her name tag that read "Lisa Willson, Michigan Education Association, Midwest Committee."
"So nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Willson," I said faking a muffled voice and stretching out the Ls. Then taking a good look at one breast then the other, I added, "And yours and yours."
She kept a firm grip on my ears, as if making sure that I got a good look.
"Well, if you're done memorizing my nametag," she said with a chuckle that made her boobs wiggle. "How about buying me a drink?"
The scent of her perfume was alluring as was the sight of her lovely tits cradled in her brief lacy undergarment. The logo on her tag indicated that they were part of a curriculum review conference.
"Wait a minute now," I said continuing with the fake muffled voice. "Don't you spell your last name with one 'l' instead of two?"
"Well, if you're gonna read the tag instead of checking out my boobs, then forget it!" she said, playfully pushing my face away.
Kyle and his pals were roaring with laughter, as were the schoolteachers. As I stood up fully at the bar, I extended my hand politely.
"Really, it is nice to meet you. Now what did you say you were drinking?"
"Scotch on the rocks. The good stuff," Lisa said firmly taking my hand and shaking it. She ducked her head down so that she could read my nametag. "And thank you Mr. uh, Derek Hyde, National Sales Manager, Wilson-Hyde Technologies."
"You're welcome. How about your colleague?" I asked, nodding toward the brunette.
"White wine," the brunette said demurely. "The house wine is fine."
"Well, you heard them," I said to the bartender. "I wouldn't mess around if I were you. Know what I mean?"
"And you are?" I asked the brunette as I extended my hand toward her.
"Carrie," she said shyly. "Carrie Logan."
"Well, nice to meet you both, although really, I was really just trying to read your tag," I said taking a sip of Jack D. "Although the sideshow was quite eye opening."
The bartender quickly set the drinks down by the ladies beside me and waited for me to sign the tab. Now that the ice was broken, the entire bar erupted in renewed rounds of chatter and drinks and laughter. Even Kyle and the other boys from the Industrial meeting got into the spirit. It turned out that the ladies were part of an educational conference and had just wrapped up their meetings. They had enjoyed their time but were looking to head home the next day. Despite what Kyle and the boys all thought, it mattered little to me whether the ladies were lesbian or not. They were outgoing and friendly and knew what they liked to drink. When I had finished my Jack D, Carrie and Lisa even offered to buy me a drink.
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Keywords: No, Three's, Crowd,