Steve Part 1

Gregg and Bill picked us up for the next sales meeting. They came by the Epps’ house Saturday night. Gregg ran up to our room and jumped on my bed. He patted the sheet and gave me come hither look, and asked if I would join him. I laughed it off, and he got out of my bed.

Later that evening, when it became apparent that Bill and Gregg had no place to sleep, we shared our beds with them. Great, just great I thought. Bill was in Mary’s bed, Gregg in mine. At first Gregg was the perfect gentleman. Totally clothed, we spooned just to fit on the twin bed. He began breathing in my ear. His breath was warm, close, intoxicating. I turned to him and we kissed. The kisses were shallow at first, just soft lips, and then grew a bit deeper. I stifled a moan, since Mary and Bill were just across the room, as Gregg’s hands caressed my body through my clothes in a sensual way. My breathing grew deeper. He began to open my top jean button and then lower the zipper. He slid his hand in and found me wet. One of his fingers entered me and he whispered, “You are so tight.” I moved his hand away and he stopped immediately. I realized that I was lonely both for someone to talk to and to sleep with. We spooned again and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I wore my New York Yankees hat to the meeting for the first time. My shoulder length hair was tucked into it. That week, my sales had not been all that bad; good enough that I did not fear being ostracized, and low enough that I would not be called on to make a success testimonial. That suited me just fine. Mary and I strode into the lobby of the hotel in Marietta.

One of the guys, Steve, who’s territory was Northern Oconee County (just to the South of mine), came right up to me and put his arms around me. Out of the blue, he gave me a big wet kiss on the neck. He let me go and resumed walking past me. I was unaccustomed to so much attention from guys at home.

During the meeting, a contest was announced. Each person was assigned another to compete with during the following week. The two peoples’ sales for that week would be compared head to head. Results of the competition would be announced at next week’s meeting, and the winner would get to throw a pie into the face of the loser. Every one was paired. At first I thought that Mary and I would be paired. I would lose, as her sales were usually much better than mine, but I could live with the idea of her throwing a pie into my face.

To my surprise, I was paired with Brian, a second year salesman who was in a slump. Robbie announced the pairing something like this, “Sue and Brian are paired because Sue had a pretty good week, but we think she has potential to do much better. Being paired against Brian, who has had really big sales in the past, should motivate her to her best week of the summer. Brian was one of our top sales people last year, but is in a slump. We thought that the insult of being paired against a first year girl ought to motivate him.”

Just lovely, I thought. That is how much they thought of women on the bookfield; that being paired against a girl was insult enough to break a slump. And I was worried. There was no way that even if motivated I had any where near the sales talents that Brian had. I was already doing the best I could. I looked at Brian, but he did not look back. He had his game face on. He had been publicly insulted.

I couldn’t believe that the company would completely humiliate half of its sales people, the losers, for the benefit of the other half, the winners. The bottom line, however, was the company’s bottom line. Everyone would be motivated to avoid a terrible public humiliation, and the company would reap the profits. Disgusting.

I considered quitting at that point. I had made a commitment to see the summer through, though. So I looked at the whole situation unemotionally, which wasn’t easy. The pie in the face wouldn’t physically hurt me, and I would be in plenty of company. I didn’t really care what these people thought of me anyhow. Mary was enthusiastic about the contest.