When you work in advertising the whole name of the game is ideas, and the execution of those ideas. I had become a major partner in our agency by my sheer execution of ideas for our best customers. I was thought of as the hot shot by the controlling partner, but the name of the game in advertising is diversity. I had my own “idea guys and gals”, but I knew the Shiners, the controlling partners in Shiner & Shiner, were always trolling other agency’s for creative minds. When they added Dave Miller to my team I wasn’t real happy, but was not hard headed, or confident, enough to not give him a chance. My team had been strong, but in just 90 days, Dave was leading them, and I knew at least one of my team of (now) 4 was circulating his resume’. Dave had well established himself. He was incredibly handsome and every female in the office had googie eyes for him (probably a few guys, too)

As I did with each of them, we shared success’s, and although I may be the one who polished their ideas and made the presentations, I made it clear to the Shiner’s where ideas came from in genus form. Dave and I had become close in a mutual admiration society sort of way. We shared lots of high fives, fist bumps, ect when we knew we hit a home run. He drew what had become “his” team together to make me look like a great leader and motivator. Our agency was based on 11 major national accounts, and I held 7 of them. I knew the Shiners had talked of adding my name (Lanny Watkins)to the logo shield. Shiner, Shiner and Watkins had a nice ring. However, I took nothing for granted.

Dave and I had worked late on polishing a presentation 3 nights in a row, just the two of us, when we settled on a finished product to present to the account the following day. It was just after 9 and I called it finished.

“Dave, you want to stop for a quick drink or two to take the edge off, celebrate?”

“Sure Lanny, do you have any place in particular in mind?” He said as he locked up our presentation boards and scripts.

“No, where do you go? I haven’t been out in a while. The place we used to go for a little celebration closed a few weeks back after a fire.” I commented.

“How about Skinners? It’s a dance and drink club I’ve been to the last 2 nights and I may have a line on a, ... uhhh ... little company for the night.”

I smiled to him and nodded. “I won’t be an anchor, just a drink or two and I’ll be gone. I used to hit Skinners a lot with an old girlfriend.”

“You don’t go out anymore? You aren’t married.”

“You young handsome guys get all the girls now. Actually, I have a gal who stays with me most nights. She’s in media sales, how we met, but, she is on the road a few nights each week. Not married, not engaged, sort of committed. We are tiptoeing around the “love” word. I was in a 5 year situation before that ended badly, I guess you would say. I’m just, umm, ... wary, you might say.”

We took a cab to Skinners and on the way I asked him, “So, this prospect, is she younger, older? Just looking for a hook-up, or do you want to find a girlfriend.”

“Well, she’s tall and has an ass that would drive you crazy. Pretty, maybe 5 years older than me, has a great laugh, and her eyes sparkle when she looks at me. I’d love to bounce my loins off her cheeks bent over in front of me.”

“Whoa, you sound like you have her set up, ready to pounce.” I said.

“The way she sips a drink, eats the cherry and licks the swizzle, tells me she’s into me. I’m not bragging, but I get hit on a lot, and when she’s around me, she protects me like a mama bear with her cub.”

“Sounds like you have her set up for the kill.”

“I think so, I suggested us leaving in the same cab last night, and she appeared to almost bite, but she made sure to say she would be back tonight. The fact SHE’S shopping for a lay on 2 consecutive week nights row tells me she’s ripe and ready to be picked. HA! It makes me feel desperate. It’s been a while.” He said blushing and smiling.

“Just the way the gals in the office look you over, you should not be lonely.” I told him.

“I don’t shit where I eat, I have been propositioned at the office. I don’t play those games. I don’t know who’s screwing who there and don’t need to.” Dave said.

“Great decision, Dave.” I said as we walked in the door.

For a weeknight, Skinners was pretty crowded. The DJ’s there played dance music like a 70’s – 80’s disco, but seemed to have some modern mixes of current pop music. They played little rap or anything you might call gangsta, but still got a surprising cultural mix, probably 50-50 if you combined white and asian vs black and hispanic. To me it proved that it was about the music, not the message. Young people like to dance and feel free of the stereotypes. You saw mixed couples all over the dance floor. My ex-girlfriend always said it was where white chicks could meet up with the guys their parents forbid them to see.

Skinners was a converted Off-Track Horse Betting parlor. The connected betting carrels were all gone except for a few that, at one time, sat in front of the big TV screen, now where the main dance floor was. These were executive carrels with rolled leather seats almost like a restaurant booth, but the privacy shields were taken away. There were 8 of these booth like fixtures around the front of the giant dance floor, and maybe 60 or more small tables for two or four spread around behind them. A waitress saw Dave right away and motioned him towards one of the front booths. One was being vacated and she knew his preference. She sat us and got us drinks as we watched the couples dance, with lots of girls dancing together. I’m sure if Dave made a play for the waitress, he would make out fine judging by the way she looked at him.

I saw my ex there, Barbara Nichols, and she looked as good as ever. Tall and well proportioned with what you could call dark blond hair. It was neither brown or brunette, and definitely not a sunny blond. But, as always, it shone and she looked delicious. Unfortunately, I knew her quirks, the ones that drove me crazy, and the one that drove me away. She was never satisfied with her place in the life chain, always wanted the better guy, who had the better car, the better house, etc. In that sense, she was so shallow. We could make love all day, in any way imaginable, with total devotion to each other’s wants and needs, and then go out and her eyes would wander to some “hunk” and she would make it obvious she wanted to be with him. It pissed me off to no end and no matter how I tried, she was never fully happy. I should say that sexually, she was quite satisfied, that was where I always thought I would win her 100%. I brought her to near passing out, screaming, toe-curling orgasms over and over again. She could not possibly have wanted more in that department. But that only lasted until the next time we were out together. I mean, I ogle other women openly, but I didn’t describe to her the car they owned, or their clothes.

Typically it was, “Wow, that guy with the Sting Ray there is a dish. Whew, he’s making me sweat.” She would say as she fluttered her eyes at him. We were on the verge of commitment time and we talked weddings, honeymoons, and rings. Each had to be compared to some other friends of hers, and better. That was it for me. We parted on fairly good terms, at least civil to each other.

Dave and I watched the girls dancing and my ex, who everyone called Barbie, came into view. Dave sat up and nudged me, “There!! That’s her, the tall one with the gorgeous ass!”

I sunk in the seat and asked if he was kidding me, or if this was some sort of set up.

“No, what do you mean?” He wondered.

“That’s my ex! I mean, I don’t care if you see her, it’s just she’s shallow as hell. For a piece of ass, you won’t do better, but if you want a girlfriend, I suggest you move on.” I barked to him.

“Wow, you sound bitter. I’ll wait till you leave to talk to her.” Dave chided me.

“No, you’re misunderstanding me. I don’t care if you invite her to our table, I’m just telling you not to get attached. She’s hot as a firecracker in the sack, I don’t know about first dates, but I hear she gets around now. Oh, I’ve said too much.”

We sipped our drinks through another song or two and we hadn’t seen Barbie for a bit. Dave was either thinking a new plan, or rethinking Barbie. He asked if I could answer an off color question.

“What do you mean?” I wondered.

“I’m horny as hell, working late hours, being propositioned at work and not being able to do anything about it, going home alone, I’ve even considered hookers.”

“And...” I encouraged him to finish.

“Is she as hot as she tries to make me think. The way she eats the cherry from her drink, and tongues the swizzle stick, has me thinking she would suck the cock right off me, ... and I’m sorry if I’m being too forward.”

I smiled at him to allieve his fears at me taking offense; I owed her nothing for all the grief she put me through.

“She loves to give head, but I think all women do, whether they admit it or not, but, with your looks I don’t think she would wait for a second date. She would want that hook in you. Tell her about your Tesla and you might get a shot at that tight ass of hers.” I said with a grin.

“She’s into that? It’s the first thing you think of when you see her move it on the dance floor, that would be a bonus, but I just want to fuck her.” Dave said excitedly.

“She’s not in love with giving up her little hole, but impress her, and it’s always on the table.” I said as Dave was moving out of the booth to seek her out.

I figured it was the last I would see of him for the night. I planned on finishing my drink and getting uber home. I was just sipping the last of my scotch when Barbie popped up from behind the booth.

“Gee, I’m glad you think so much of me.” She snarled.

“What do you mean?” I asked stupidly.

“I didn’t hear it all, but thanks for telling him I like to give head. So much for trying to impress him. Fuck you! I know he wants to fuck me, what did you tell him about the Tesla, I didn’t hear all that.”

“Just that you would be impressed.”

“How impressed? I heard him talk about my ass.”

“Just that you knew how to move it, don’t get all defensive. When he said he had a girl he wanted to meet, I had no idea it was you. He pointed you out and I told him I knew you. He’s looking for you now. If he see’s you here, he’ll think I’m setting him up and he’ll leave.”

Barbie ducked at my words and moved back into the crowd. I motioned the waitress and she came to me. I gave her $40 to cover our drinks and her tip.

“So, is this booth free now, where did your friend go?” She asked.

I smiled and said “He’s trying to line up a sure thing out there.” I said as I pointed to the crowd.

She grinned at me saying, “I’ll hold the booth for a few minutes. Too bad I’m working. Whew!”

I was making my way out and my phone rang, I saw it was Barbie and answered.

(She was crying) “You son of a bitch, what we shared intimately was ours and only ours, and if you shared one secret besides the dirty talk all guys brag on, I’ll lose any respect I still have for you. If I would change anything in my life, it would be throwing you away by acting like a spoiled shallow child.”

Before I could respond she hung up.

If she wanted to make me feel bad, she accomplished that, but she hurt me a 100 times before, so it didn’t make much difference to me. I never thought she would seriously “change”, and still didn’t.

The next morning Dave and I gathered our team and showed them the end concept of all their work. We began to work on presentation and by early afternoon we had what I thought was one of our best. We would normally “act out” the ads with title cards and a story board. A storyboard is a graphic organizer of illustrations displayed in sequence for the purpose of pre-visualizing the video ad, along with stills for magazine and billboard presentations. We never labored long on preparing presentation, I thought it let ideas go stale, or seem old hat. Go with what your thoughts first perceived.

The Shiners were not in love with not being able to see a presentation before the account, but they trusted me fully and seeing and feeling the finished product with the account made it all that much more fresh.

Upon completion of the 5 minute presentation we would gather hand in hand and bow and curtsey before leaving the room, leaving just Dave and I. As always that day, I held my breath until I saw the first reactions. The Shiners had an apprehensive look on their faces before the account stood and applauded. They were deliriously happy. We (Dave and I) tried not to be too bowled over and take it in stride. After all we just nailed a 7.5 million dollar roll-out in the Northeastern States and if the campaign worked well, a $20 million national deal. We all shook hands and Dave and I left while they dotted i’s and crossed t’s on the deal.

Dave looked at me and said “That was almost as good as getting my nut last night.”

“Oh, anybody I know?” I asked with a sly grin.

“I don’t kiss and tell, but good head was a good call.” He said as we headed back to our creative lair where the others waited to hear the result and reaction.

Dave and I went to my office and got bottles of champagne, shook them a little, and undid the foil and wire. We went and opened the door where the others waited and walked in with long sprays of the bubbly while our creative team cheered their own accomplishments. I raised a glass for a short speech.