Brokenhearted in Bakersfield
62 - THIS MUST BE THE PLACE
Betty began the introductions,
“A Ms. Gato, a Mr. Purty, and a....”
“We know, we know,” a deep voice emanated from inside. “Please, just show the gentleman in.”
It took me a couple of seconds to get adjusted to all the bright lights. At first everything was just shapes and
shadows, but finally I could make out a giant table with a bunch of men sitting
in big black chairs. Betty took me to a
chair at one end of the table, and Maggie and Owen was ushered into some
smaller seats lining the wall right behind where I sat.
Two whole sides of the room was glass looking to the outside world. There was all that water we flew over, only
now I could see sailboats and bridges and the tops of tall buildings all around
us. It was breathtaking to behold.
I sat down and gazed around the table at the different men in black suits. At the far side of the table was the oldest
person I’d seen since Great-Granny Fanny.
He didn’t so much have a head as he had a cranium that appeared to be
calcified, ossified and fossilized beyond repair. He slouched in his chair as fingertips tapped
against each other. He stared at me with
dark coal-black eyes. Before I had a
chance to say howdy the black suit to the left of The Cranium began to speak,
“On behalf of the RobbinsYUZ Corporation, we wish to welcome you.” Then the black suit yammered on and on, blah,
blah, blah.
This was so cool, in front
of everyone was a little dish of candies and a small menu:
Goodies From Miss Kitty’s Kitchen Kupboard
Celebrity Chef Hui-Ling
Today’s Special: A Blooming
Radish
Organically grown radishes in the freshness of bloom, plucked from the ground,
washed and slapped on a plate à la California Cuisine magazine.
Fried Rice Balls
Deep-fried to crunchy perfection; just dip ‘em in catsup and eat ‘em up!
Squat Noodles
Meanwhile, the black suit was still yammering away incessantly, “…and because
of your substantial holdings, we are prepared to offer you a variety of
opportunities within the RobbinsYUZ family of companies. Including, but not limited to, ridiculously
bloated compensation on a number of board seats, a You-Name-It-Presidency in
the company of your choice, overseeing limitedly competent grunts who need your
supervision as much as you need an extra check.
Or, if you’re so inclined, a hands-on Vice Presidency down in the field
getting into things you don’t understand, and basically doubling the workload
of grunts by forcing them to spend half their time fixing the consequences of
your decisions. It’s your call.”
Reaching down my sock and pulling out my birthright, I slammed it on the
table. “I’ll double down,” I pressed my
advantage. No way these yokels was ready
for the likes of me.
“Now you can offer me this, and you can offer me that,” I sneered, “and for all
I know, you can believe I just fell off of a turnip truck yesterday. But I didn’t fall off no damn turnip truck,
fellahs, and I know the value of what I got.
So listen up. What I want is, I
wanna manage Broken Heart Park.”
I heard Maggie swoon behind me in deep admiration, while Owen made gurgling
sounds he was so amazed at my business prowess.
“You mean you’d like the presidency of the Broken Heart franchise?” the black
suit to the right of The Cranium asked.
“You don’t hear so good or something?
What I mean is, I wanna be the Park Manager of Broken Heart Park in
Bakersfield. Starting right now.”
After putting my non-negotiable demand out there, I pushed away from the table
in total command of the situation.
Pretending to yawn, I casually leaned back and stretched my hands behind
my head when the chair tipped over backwards.
Pulling myself upright I acted like I meant it, and I calmly awaited
their counteroffer.
The room fell silent.
The Cranium’s fingers slowly kneaded together.
He smiled. “Forgive my brash
young associate. It appears that we had
not adequately ascertained your wishes.”
I felt like The Cranium was measuring me for a new suit.
“As you are no doubt aware, your family has had a long and illustrious history
with our company. And we want to do
everything in our power to repay their, their…industry. You should know,” The Cranium gave a knowing
wink, “I was a great fan of your mother’s.”
(Outta force of habit I examined his face, closely inspecting for any
resemblance to my own recognizance.
Nope, I didn’t think he was kin.)
The Cranium lounged way back in his chair and slowly rocked, playing his
fingers. “We’ll draw up the appropriate
papers and have them sent to Ms. Gato’s office first thing in the morning. Now then, is there anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied.
“Very well.” The Cranium motioned toward
the door. “Good day.”
I rose from my chair and gave Maggie and Owen two thumbs-up. Owen wept openly while Maggie slumped over in
a dead faint of wonder. I rushed to my
Maggie, knelt down and began gently shaking her while lightly slapping her face
to wake her up.
Before Maggie had a chance to come to (and maybe as important, before I got a
chance to pocket any goodies from Miss Kitty’s Kitchen Kupboard, or any freebie
pens), three goons in black suits busted into the room and assisted us with a
hasty departure. They helped us out the
door so much, our feet hardly touched the plush carpeting.
Back in the conference room someone must have told a real funny joke, because
as the elevator doors closed, we could clearly detect the sound of laughter.
Right then, I knew I was management material.