The Neighborhood Chapter Seven: Veronica

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Josh was desperate to get Veronica another job. The female redheaded double-breasted mattress thrasher worked in an adult bookstore. By the end of the day she was so desensitized to sex she wanted nothing to do with it. She read recipe books instead. The male redheaded single-dicked muff mangler worked as an IT consultant. By the end of the day, he was so horny he wanted nothing but sex. “Match made in heaven” does not come readily to mind here. We were sitting around bullshitting one evening and Josh asked if we had any ideas for a new job for his girlfriend. I got right to the point. “What are her skills?” “Apprentice dick sucker, but she’s not getting enough practice,” replied Josh. “She’s also into masonry – a prick layer, that’s with a ‘P.’ She just doesn’t seem too much into the trade. She gets so fucking bored with sex that when we go to bed she wants to sit up and read recipe books. I tell her I want to salt her to taste, maybe baste her buns or fricassee her fuck machine, but she ignores me.” “Can she sell?” This was from Lucy. We all turned to look at her. “One of my clients owns a liquor distributorship. Crystal referred him to me for financial advice. He’s easy to work istanbul travesti with and a nice guy.” Lucy was all business. That is, whatever part of her that wasn’t teasing Paul’s growing erection through his underwear was all business. “Anyway, the guy has four sales reps in the city. The one who sells to Crystal and the West side of town is doing a good job. North and South reps are not quite as good, but my client tells me the guy is OK and the girl shows real promise. “The guy who was selling in the East was let go. Half of his customers were women, and the guy turned them off with his non-stop sex talk. He was trying to get into his female customers’ pants instead of into their cash registers. Anyway, last weekend one of the more lucrative customers called the boss and told him she was switching distributors. Chester – the sales rep – had come on to her. When she turned him down, he exposed himself. She told my client that she enjoys a good Johnson as much as anybody else, just not when it’s shoved in her face while she’s trying to write a check. “The boss has taken over that territory himself, but he needs a replacement. I doubt that Veronica’s going to shove her istanbul travestileri dick up anybody’s nose while working, which at least gives her a leg up on her predecessor. Do you want me to arrange an interview?” Josh was on the phone in a second. Veronica, of course, first wanted to know how many tablespoons there were in a liter. “About sixty seven and a half,” offered Lucy. I was still stuck on how to convert ounces to furlongs, and she had the fucking answer off the top of her head. Josh repeated what Lucy had told him. “And, no, I have no idea where you can get fresh basil. Please just listen. Do you want a new job, one with better pay, and that might let you pay more attention to boffing than baking once in a while?” Lucy arranged the interview, no promises. Her client tested Veronica out on what he thought would be an obscure topic, cooking wines. He stopped taking notes long enough to offer her the job, and then asked her to write all that stuff down. She was going to start immediately. Veronica did go back to the bookstore and tell the owner she quit. She said he asked her that, since she didn’t work there anymore, how about a blowjob? “I told him that, travesti istanbul since I didn’t work there anymore, how about I cut your fuckin’ nuts off?” Veronica occasionally had difficulty with simple declarative statements; with the more colorful and complex forms of the language she was fine. Her boss thanked Lucy for finding her. Their sales of cooking wine went through the roof. Sure, Veronica thought that horilka was a Swedish prostitute and tequila hosted a show on MTV. He figured she’d get the hang of it. Her customers loved her. That was all that mattered. Josh told us that his sex life got immensely better overnight, and his drinking life went into overdrive. Veronica’s customers liked her so much she had a standing invitation to come drink for free, any time she wanted, and to bring her boyfriend along. “How about her boyfriend’s roommates?” Randy asked. “Cash only, no checks,” replied Veronica. “I ain’t the fuckin’ welcome wagon, you know.” For a week, they hit a different bar every night. The first night she had to practically carry Josh into the house. She had driven home, and he was too drunk to stop at the convenience store for cigarettes. We wondered why he still had his clothes on when he came in. The next morning she had it out with him. “You wanted me to get a new job.” Josh was burying his head in his hands and moaning. That horilka will give you a whopper of a hangover, you know. “I’ve got the new job,” she yelled at him.

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