LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

The Bar
Recently I had a remarkable experience I just have to share.

I was having a terrible day. Work had been insane lately. Our company was merging with another and some days it looked like I might get a promotion, and on other days it felt like I might be one of the layoffs. I was working 12-hour days most of the time. My girlfriend and I had just had another fight and it was looking like she might be moving out. Then my boss got the flu and sent me to San Francisco on two hours notice. For all I knew Sarah wouldn't be there when I got home.

Of course the flight was delayed, so I spent three hours at the airport, waiting, and my laptop crashed and refused to boot, and I didn't have any backup disks with me. And did I mention the ATM machine ate my card? (The bank was real helpful. Thirty minutes after I called, a workman showed up and put an "Out of Order" sign on the machine. Then he left.)

Anyway, I arrived in SF hungry, grouchy, sweaty, and royally pissed off at the world. The only good piece of news was that I had managed to get a hold of an old college buddy of mine and he'd promised to pick me up at the airport. Eric had moved to San Francisco about ten years ago and though we've talked on occasion, I hadn't seen him in at least that long.

I almost didn't recognize him. I wouldn't have, really, if he hadn't seen me first. I guess I haven't changed much in ten years. Eric, on the other hand, was impressive. He looked fit and healthy - extremely fit and healthy. He was dressed to the nines in what was obviously an expensive, custom-made suit. I felt even worse about my own drabby appearance: I still wore the six-year-old brown suit I'd put on 18 hours earlier.

"You must be doing well for yourself," I said as we headed for the baggage area.

"Tops," laughed Eric. "It comes in faster than I can spend it, and I spend it easily!"

I felt a twinge of jealousy. Eric and I had graduated the same year, but he'd obviously done better than me. Not that I was starving or anything. I had a nice 401K, owned a home, and I was looking into buying a summer place by the lake. Nothing too elaborate, mind you, just a cabin. But it was about 60K and with the job situation rather haphazard right now, I felt it best to wait until the chips fell.

"What are you into?" I asked. "I mean, I know you started your own company, but what do you do?"

Eric grinned. "I don't do anything - my employees do the work." He laughed, pointing at a bright pink suitcase curling past us. "Is that yours?"

I shook my head, laughing with him.

"Seriously," he continued, "I network. That's my job. I meet with the presidents and CEOs of top high tech companies. I take them out for drinks, we shmooze, we play golf, you know the shit. Then they sign contracts giving my company millions."