Money For Nothing

by Dom Price

  “Yes boss, but didn’t you say that...”

  “Jason, don’t fret. You’ve got your credit. You might not have shot the bullet, but you were at the scene of the crime, so Laura will add this as a sale against mine, yours and Eric’s database. I can also nominate you for an award or something retarded like that to boost your profile. That bit is covered. Winning is very different than delivering young man.”

  Jason didn’t like being called young man, as he was 2 years older than Dave. You wouldn’t have known without looking at birth certificates. Dave’s stress wrinkles, finances, career and outlook on life made him look 20 years older. But if it could get Jason the bonus he wanted, then he could bite his lip.

  “All agreed.” Neither Eric nor Jason had responded, but Dave took that as an OK! “Good, so let’s go with that. Eric, pick who you want from the pool of resource, but let’s keep them cheap and maybe get someone who is keen to learn and stuff...that way we can get them to charge their hours to development and make even more money.”

  As the two men went to leave the room, Dave was leaning back and running his hands through his hair sensing the sweet smell of success. But this was only part of the puzzle. There is no point having a tail to pin if you haven’t got a donkey.

  “Jason, can you stay behind please?”

  Once the door was closed, and Jason seated, Dave changed his tact from Mr Success to Mr In Need.

  “OK mate, judging by the smirk on your face this morning, I think it’s safe to assume that you did alright last night, so that pretty much proves your theory. I’ve had a think on and I reckon I have an idea about my niche and what I need to do to possibly update my appearance to impress such a target market. Now my research suggests that the probability of success increases in these situations if you have a wingman, so how’s about it. I don’t need help you understand. I am perfectly capable of doing this myself. But it’s more fun yeah. A lad’s night out? If you are free I mean. Obviously, erm...”

  “Dave no worries. I had a think this morning and I reckon there is a night on at my local on Thursday. Seriously mate, Thursday is the new Friday, and this place is perfect. You’d be pretty much dead cert. I’d put a mortgage on it if anyone would lend me money. This place is a veritable feast and a meat market extravaganza. Promise.”

  “Well that’s a date then...I mean not a date date. Thursday. A confirmed appointment! And please Jason, when I have your career close to my heart, I’d appreciate if you had discretion close to yours. If you know what I mean.”

  Jason was relaxed. It wasn’t that Dave’s threats didn’t scare him, but his Thursday venue of choice was a shoe in.

  ***

  Chapter Good Luck Comes in 3’s

  ***

  “Luck doesn’t favour the brave. It favours those that rely on it through lack of ability.”

  Ironically for a man who believes so staunchly in the Rule Of 3, Dave had a deep hatred for any thought of ‘luck’ being involved in life. When he had engaged in lengthy debates on such topics, he’d been happy to talk about the work of fate and the elements of opportunity, but he hated luck. Luck was something that other people needed to make up for their short comings. Relying on luck was like admitting defeat. It was in his vocabulary, but only to describe others.

  Dave was much happier putting his faith in ability, skills and the odd bit of hard work. It was with this thought process that Dave had meticulously planned for Thursday night. One thing that he did strongly believe in was riding the crest of a wave, and this current bank of water that he was on was pretty impressive wave. Whilst things with Tim hadn’t transpired as he’d prefer, the outcome wasn’t up for debate and Dave had a foot in the door at Food United Group and therefore considered himself in pole position for the arrival of the much anticipated Ronnie Patel.

  What Dave had learnt over his years ascending the corporate ladder was that instinct was an essential tool in getting through the days, weeks, months and years of endless meetings, targets, challenges and pitfalls. What Dave knew even more, was that his instinct was at its finest when it was joined by its best friend; confidence. With things progressing at Food United Group, Dave’s confidence was brimming like a cauldron at Halloween.

  With a firm tick in the box of the CEC requirements for promotion, it was now time to take some of that confidence and transfer it to the other element of his challenge. That evening Dave spent hours at his home white board, scrawling again. This time, he had a selection of magazines that he’d got from the newsagent on his way home. The frown and curious look from the store owner was deserved. Despite being decked out in an awful smorgasbord of paisley and beige, the Indian man behind the counter had every right be to slightly thrown by the 3 months worth of FHM, GQ and Men Style that Dave approached the counter with. He knew Dave and he knew that he had a business paper and series of business periodicals delivered on a frequent basis, so this twist in taste was a little strange.

  “That is coming to 22 pounds and 33 pence of your very hard earned money Mr Marsdon” muttered the man, smiling and rolling his head from side to side as Indians do. The fact that this particular Indian had never left South London wasn’t important to the character that he played so perfectly.

  “Here you go Rasheed. That is 25.”

  “I am thanking you very much Mr Marsdon Sir. Enjoy your...reading Sir” rolling his head to the point of near dizziness.

  Using blue tak, Dave started his evening on the PLAN phase of PLAN, EXECUTE, MEASURE. He had to get this right, as it was nearly his last plan. Not that he was doubting his ability. More just cutting it fine.

  The array of outfits and fashion identities had been too much initially, but Dave had focused on appearances that met the criteria on the board.

  Must suit me

  Must attract my target market

  A challenge Dave had was that he didn’t really know what his target market was. The disappointments and unwelcome surprises of his dating experience so far, had shown him that there was possibly a dimension to this lark that he hadn’t yet understood. As a reminder Dave wrote in bold across the board. “Understanding is not essential.”

  There were some themes coming through and Dave quickly realised that his wardrobe was sadly lacking the required clothing to pull off his new look. New Dave for Phase 3 of this plan had to be different from the Dave that didn’t quite make it in Phase 1 and 2.

  New Dave had to have a different look, a different feel and a different approach. In addition to sticking some sample outfits from the magazines on the wall, Dave was also using his highlighter to select words and phrases that he felt would help him assume his new role. Sitting there alone, he practiced them.

  “Alright love, that dress is lovely. It’d look better on my bedroom floor though.”

  “Hey, yeah I love extreme sports. Do you want to go tandem tonight?”

  Despite being the only person in the room, he was cringing at his lack of ability. He knew he must remain upbeat. With Jason as a wingman, Dave had the assistance to develop a new approach. He just had to get his look right. Reading further, he noticed a familiar pattern and a word that came up a few times that he’d not heard before. Reaching for his laptop, it was time to learn what this new word was and what it meant.

  The results from his internet search hit him with horror.

  “Manscapping; A mans grooming of his body hair. Like landscaping, but for the body. Usually includes all intimate hairy parts of the body.”

  Dave contemplated in silence for a while. The evidence was pretty conclusive from the magazines. And maybe his lack of manscaping could have been a contributing factor in the less than successful forees into ladies in Phase 1 and 2. “Doubtful” he thought to himself. “None of them got as far as seeing me without my shirt on, let alone anything else. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained.”

  Riding the wave of confidence Dave realised that tonight was his opportunity and he liked to seize opportunity. With the following night already
dedicated to clothes shopping for his new outfit, and the night after that being D-Day Thursday, it was essential that he kept up the momentum. Removing his t-shirt, he grabbed the pen off the bed and wrote on the door.

  “Seize the moment. Re-invention step 1. Manscape.”

  For a man who liked to plan before executing, Dave had no idea quite how unprepared he was for this task. But his novice status wasn’t going to deter a man who was on a run. Things were going his way, and any nerves he had about manscaping could easily be attributed as he did with his clients. “It’s the fear of change, rather than the change itself, which is worrying you.” Dave wasn’t scared.

  Removing the rest of his clothes, he was happy with the progress so far. In his pristine and polished bathroom, he began assembling what he thought he thought were the vital tools and apparatus for the job at hand. Dave had opted for blind faith over any more detailed research into ‘manscaping’ on the internet. He knew that if he read a self help guide on how to do it, then it would be a classic case of a little information doing a lot of damage, so he was relying once again on his instinct.

  The problem was, his instinct did amazingly well in the playground of business, and wasn’t used to challenges such as this in the bathroom of the inexperienced.

  A quick check around from the list he had in his head confirmed that they were nearly ready for lift off.

  “Razor, shaving foam, towels, sink full of hot water. Easy. Just like shaving my face every day. Seriously, how hard can it be?”

  Suddenly Dave paused as the memory of his first nick from a razor and the seemingly endless sting of the aftershave lotion on his youthful skin. It might be a memory that was 13 years old, but it still stung inside.

  “Fresh blade, just in case.” Dave gave himself a wink as he treated himself to a fresh blade. He was reassured by the packaging which reminded him of the guards on the blade that limited the chance of cuts. Technology advancements were a good thing.

  The first obstacle that Dave hadn’t quite expected was the logistical challenge. He was accustomed to leaning forward over the sink to get close to the mirror when shaving his face, but the angles, reach and view of the manscape region was proving to be a little trickier.

  Attempt one involved the foot up on the toilet seat, to get some leverage. There was a semi decent view, but to get a full view required some minor acrobatics and squishing stretching of the crown jewels to get any kind of reflection in the mirror.

  Attempt two was treacherous, and involved Dave trying to stand on the toilet, and bend forwards sticking his head between his legs, using his normal shaving mirror for guidance. “Oh dear lord! Not a pretty sight“. Dave clambered down and looked around. “Aha! Mirrors. Yes!!” Dave was excited again.

  Returning from his bedroom, the lounge and his study area, Dave was now carrying a selection of 4 different mirrors of various shapes, sizes and intentions. But their use on this night was unified. Having hastily arranged them using the toilet, shower cubicle, vanity and bath as balancing posts, Dave had his creation. Standing on the bath matt, he had a 360 degree 3 dimensional view of his essentials, and was ready to go.

  Before starting for real, Dave opted to play a bit safe with a dry run, which proved very useful. Starring into one mirror, he was reminded of his first driving lesson which would prove extremely valuable at this point. When looking behind yourself in a mirror to park a car, left is right and right is left! “Phew...that could have hurt!”

  Dave splashed himself with the warm water, and froffed the shaving cream up in his hands, applying liberal amounts to his nether regions. He could feel the doubt creeping in with each application of the cream. “Evolution had made us hairy there, so maybe we should leave it? But then the magazines were pretty clear. Women like it, and I need a woman. But shouldn’t a woman see me naturally first?” The thoughts allowed some of the foam to drop into the mirror, so Dave reached down to clear it off. A clear view was essential here.

  Looking down it was time. “Sorry chaps. Looks like a woman might never see you in your current state.” It was a sad truth, but one that no-one else cared about.

  “Here goes nothing!”

  Dave almost wanted to close his eyes in nervous excitement, but quickly realised that they’d be particularly handy in the current circumstances. Seconds later, after a few well placed slides with the razor and splashes with water, it was done.

  Dave had never been one to find his dongle to be something that would go under the category of aesthetically pleasing. Quite the opposite, the main function of those organs had purely been practical, and not in the way that most guys think. But looking down, surrounded by mirrors and a total of 5 different views of the same part of his body, Dave was overcome with anti climax.

  “Really? This is really what women like?” Dave’s face squirmed at the new appearance. He was satisfied that there was a very good reason why he’d never manscaped before. What was never an attractive part of the body now looked altogether awkward? Like a tree with branches but no leaves.

  “Mind you, on the positive, it looks a lot bigger.”

  Now happy with his nights work, Dave decided that with a busy rest of the week ahead of him, an early night was in order. He was unsure as to whether it was wise or not, but following on from his face shaving analogy, Dave reached for his favourite after shave, and lying back in bed, slapped a healthy amount from his hands onto his freshly shaved region.

  It was the first tear to fall down Dave’s face for 14 years.

  ***

  Chapter Dressing for Beginners

  ***

  “Can you pass me the coffee please?”

  The morning management meeting with the senior partners from CEC had gone pretty well for Dave from a professional stand point. His work had got a mention, as one of the more respected bosses had talked warmly about “David’s penetration into one of the toughest and most sought after clients on our radar. Let’s just hope that the early promise turns into something of a fruitful relationship.”

  But instead of smiling and milking the room for all it was worth, Dave missed this particular public relations opening, concentrating all of his efforts on not scratching. The discomfort hadn’t been immediately obvious, although showering that morning had required an extra deft touch of caution around the area in question. He looked spottier than a 13 year old teenager.

  Sat in the meeting, Dave was struggling to stomach the day old muffin that had been served for breakfast or the filter coffee that normally would fuel him through the meeting. 34 men in suits with a combined income of several million pounds, was normally enough to excite Dave, but on this particular morning, none of the men in the room were equipped to assist with Dave’s line of enquiry. At least he hoped not.

  Reaching for his mobile, there were only two people he could possibly ask for help. Ideally he’d go to Anne, but he was a tad uncomfortable with the thought of asking his sister how to deal with the one day itch from some freshly shaved balls. He also doubted that she’d have specifics to assist, as given that she was happily married with two children, Dave sincerely doubted that either Anne or Tony engaged in any kind of scaping. Laura was the other option, and she was significantly more likely to know about the perils of such work, but could she be trusted.

  The pain was too much, and Dave sent her the message. Suddenly a billowing voice shook him. “I do hope that was Food Group you were messaging. Unless I am boring young David?” The voice was that of Bill Hennessey, the head partner at CEC. Dave had befriended him years ago, and it was through Bill that Dave had got access to these meetings. He was the only Director allowed to attend, and he would feel honoured if he didn’t think it was so deserved.

  “Just tying up a few loose ends on the contract sir. They like quick responses, so I keep this with me 24/7 just in case. You can’t beat prompt customer service.”

  “Good lad. I was just pulling your leg anyway.”

  Bill was one of the few people that Dave act
ually respected, but more than that, he was scared of him. Bill was only an inch or two taller, but his stature was massive, and his frame dominated many a room. His voice echoed with volume and girth. He was a living Goliath. Dave breathed a sigh of temporary relief that Bill, the man who stood at the very top of the CEC enterprise, hadn’t afforded himself the luxury of reading the message.

  “Shaved my testicles lst nte. Itching badly. HELP. Down in 10mins, Dave. PS: ask no q’s!”

  Laura was ready for Dave’s arrival, and had even invested a few moments in perfecting her poker face. She knew Dave wasn’t famed for his sense of humour and certainly wasn’t one to engage in self deprecation, so she was on her best behaviour. That was until she saw his John Wayne impression as he waddled uncomfortably down the corridor towards his small office, swinging his legs outwardly to avoid as much contact as possible. The pain on his face was evident, and his bubbling anger wasn’t helped by Laura’s mini snigger.

  Instead of the usual outburst as he eased himself into his chair, Dave just looked relieved to be still.

  “Tell me you can fix this.”

  “Well, I need to ask a few questions. So...”

  “Laura, I said don’t ask!”

  “I know, but it’s important. I need to know when you did it, what you used, and what you did afterwards...I mean in terms of maintenance, not anything sexual.” Laura blushed.

  “LAURA! Right, I did it last night, I used my razor blade and shaving foam, and then I used my after shave on them afterwards. And yes, it stung like a thousand bees attacking me in unison. Now help for god’s sake.”

  “OK. I’ve got some sensitive skin hand cream that you can use. Well you can have. Not sure I want it back after you’ve...anyway, I have that, and that should soothe them. I’ve also got some Vitamin E cream that might help. Do you need any pain killers?”

  “Yes to all of that. Stick the receipts through expenses and I’ll sign it off.”