One Size Fits All

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One Size Fits All Page 7

by Courtney Cole


  “Calm down and untie those granny panties. I told you, this is perfectly legal and legit. Plus, my friend Megan owns the business.”

  “Fine, what is this great plan to get me out of financial debt?”

  “Sex toys. You’ll be a consultant while hosting parties. Isn’t it great?” she finishes saying to me rather loudly as she passes me the folder.

  “Sex toys? What the hell are you talking about? I’m not using sex toys or videoing myself using them. No way Ginger… This totally crosses the line.”

  “No, you ding bat. It’s like those parties where you have a girl’s night out and order sex toys. You know, you explain what each item is and make it fun, they buy, and you make money. I swear Megan brings in over sixty thousand a year from this; you can totally pay off your loans and get ahead.”

  “Ginger, have you forgotten one tiny little problem?” I say and lean over the table so I can whisper the next part. “I can’t say the word penis in front of anyone without turning red like a tomato. How in the world do you expect me to say it in front of people I don’t even know, and describe what to do with all of them?”

  “They teach you what each item does in a video, plus it’s not like you’ll ever see these people again. Come on Charlie, it’s going to be great and you’ll be good at it. Well, once you can say penis that is. Oh I know, we can go over to that store on fifth and browse at some of the items. Every time you see a penis you can say it, or come up with a fun name for the dong.”

  “It’s official now… You’ve lost your mind and I’ve lost my best friend. I can’t do this, Ginger.”

  “Yes you can, and this isn’t the Charlie I know… Do I need to dare you like I did in school, because you know I will?”

  “Fine, what do I have to do and if I get arrested you will bail me out of jail- do you understand me?”

  “That’s the only reason why I have that Platinum credit card, it’s strictly for jail money. Plus, you have nothing to worry about.”

  Lunch flies by and before we know it, we’re hugging each other bye on the sidewalk before returning to our respectable jobs. I use the word respectable because I’m not sure how the new night job will be. Something tells me this could go terribly wrong for me in so many ways. The entire walk back to the office I recite the word penis over and over in my head. I’ve said it so much that I feel my face burning. As I step in the elevator, I’m still repeating it to myself when I hear Cooper’s deep husky voice asking me what floor. My head hangs down with embarrassment, afraid he can hear my thoughts. Before I take the opportunity to look up at him I say, “Penis… I mean twentieth, please.” Hands instantly cover my face and I lock eyes with the tile floor as I can’t bring myself to glance back up or say another word. I’m not sure if his small chuckle is because he thinks he’s hired a handicap person, or if he finds it hilarious that I just used the word penis to describe the floor I work on. Either way this is just another example of the disaster that takes place when it comes to him and my big mouth.

  Chapter Two

  After slinking my way to my cubicle, I bury myself in mindless work while listening to the clock tick tock and finally land on five o’clock. It might be a little dramatic, but I can’t help the fact that I’m bored, and frankly avoiding contact with Cooper again. Lucky for me I haven’t seen him step foot on this floor since I hauled ass off the elevator. When I think about it, I find that odd as it seems that I see him daily around two. Did he show up and I just missed him or have I embarrassed myself enough that he is planning my departure? Oh hell, I don’t know. At this point I’m done and ready to go home. I throw all my stuff in my messenger bag, click the forward button on my desk phone, and double check that I’ve turned my computer off before heading to the bank of elevators. With my foot tapping I watch the floors light up as it approaches me, giving a silent prayer that he’s not behind those silver doors. Just as the ding erupts through the space, I take a chance and look before I enter. Sure as shit he’s standing right near the keypad. I can’t help but swallow loudly as my eyes zone in on him loosening his tie and notice how his chestnut brown hair looks to have had his masculine hands run through it several times since I last saw him. I back myself all the way to the other side trying to find my voice to say what floor I want, criticizing myself since it’s known I need the ground floor. I mean, why would I need to go to anything other than the ground floor. Get your shit together Charlie. I repeat to myself as I’m totally in need of this pep talk. Cooper clears his throat and my heart rate picks up speed as if we’re setting it to the tempo of a rock song. My head feels dizzy and my left hand grips the rail as I try to focus. This is the thing I don’t understand… How is it that one guy can send me into this tizzy? How can I not focus around him? He causes me to lose all bodily functions. Oh, thinking about that might not be a good thing as now I remember I should’ve used the bathroom before I ventured out towards the subway.

  “How was your day, Charlie,” he asks taking me by surprise. I guess that means I’ve made a big enough impression that he remembers my name. He’s probably catalogued me with the janitor or that nutty secretary on the third floor that collects hand crafted beavers. How do I know about these beavers? I’ve had the pleasure of viewing them by mistake and know the history of each. She has the whole family of them set out on her desk, perched upon a shelf next to her monitor. Continuing to think about beavers I try to stop myself and focus back on Cooper before he starts to think I’m deaf along with having a mild case of Tourette’s.

  “Fine, thank you and yours?” I ask as I watch him fidget with his tie even more.

  “That’s good, mine was another typical day at the office.” he says, but he finishes it as if he wants to say more. Or does he want me to ask another question? My hand reaches up, scratching the edge of my face. It’s one of my nervous traits. Shifting from side to side, my breath hitches in my chest when his fingertips caress the section that I’ve just got done clawing. I raise my eyes and in that moment I’m thankful the doors slide open. I duck away making a straight line towards to ladies’ room. It’s when the door closes behind me that I allow myself a brief moment to take in his touch, smell, and all things Cooper Fields. My body slouches as I picture his five foot ten-inch muscular body, which I imagine hides underneath those suits. His green eyes that appear to have flakes of nutmeg glistening out from his pupils. Just the image of him sends my body into hyper-speed.

  After quickly finishing up with my business I head back out to the main lobby preparing myself for the massive crowd of what I call walkers, the ones packed with not only walking gear, but also business gear. The ladies that have changed into tennis shoes and packed away their thousand dollar heels. The men have their heads in smartphones, some even wearing workout clothes. I on the other hand get lost in the mix of it all. It’s the one thing I love about living in the city of New York. I moved here not to fit in, but blend in as I set out to start my life after college. It seems that fashion design wasn’t for me and I gave up on my dream of owning my own business. The market here is saturated with designers and not looking for a southern girl from Charleston, South Carolina turned city bound. I’ve settled for answering phones at Fields & Manner; we design catalogs that feature the hottest designs of the season. Luck was on my side when I interviewed for this position, especially since I was about to be homeless or sleeping on Ginger’s couch. I consider it as a step up from the law firm where I was a receptionist up until a few months ago. The only thing I would enjoy more is if I was on the design team, and not stuck in a cubicle plucking away at a keyboard. At least then I could use some of my father’s money that went to pay for my degree. Until that happens, I’m going to ride this subway car home and veg out on a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream while watching The Bachelor.

  Something catches my eye while in line to board. My head turns in all directions. Left, right, behind me, and back in front peering over the heads of the others before me. It’s when I tur
n back to my left that I see him, and allow a small smile display. Cooper’s standing a few rows over from me. I wonder if he always takes public transportation, or if he changes it up. You’d think that he’d have a driver, or a car service since he’s part owner of Fields & Manner. My head hangs down watching the tips of my shoes tap against the dingy concrete, thinking of how this might look to him. I’ve never been one that does things to fit in, but come on, if you were looking at this tall, dark, and handsome man you’d be hiding your face also. Thankful the doors open and I can hide away in the aluminum box until my stop. Of course this doesn’t stop me from thinking all things Copper. At least I can avoid him and the looks for a little while longer.

  I head to the back of the car and find a bench that isn’t taken. I settle in and slide my sketch book out from my messenger bag. Just because I don’t design anymore doesn’t mean I don’t doodle. With a blank page open, a charcoal pencil braced between my fingers, I allow my hand to do what it envisions. The first line goes down, then the next, and before I know it- it’s a sketch of a man. Just a man, no thrills- nothing. I’m not even sure how long we’ve been moving or where we are when I stop and look at what was created. I jump from the sound of his voice alerting me that I have an audience. “You’re pretty good, you know.”

  Dragging my lip through my teeth, I turn my head just a little to catch a view of him through the hair that’s fallen down around my face. His hand reaches up to tuck the lose strands behind my ear, as I offer up a shy thank you.

  My eyes move down to the paper and up again towards him, noticing the sketch resembles Cooper a lot. This sends me into a mini freak-out; what if he notices the same? The speaker booms from above announcing the next stop, and I notice I missed mine. “Shit… Shit… Shit...,” I say quickly, shoving all my stuff back inside the bag and stand.

  “What’s the matter? I didn’t mean to startle you,” Cooper says while standing up to assist me. “No, I missed my flipping stop and I’ll need to back track like four… I think it’s four, I don’t know I’ve never gone past it and I only have my route mapped out in my head. Shit...” It’s then that I realize I’m turning into a rambling cussing crazy person right in front of my boss, whom I just drew in my sketch book while he witnessed it.

  “Shit,” I say again, out loud while stomping my foot. I turn to walk away but stop when his arm reaches out to stop me. My body turns to his and my insides melt with the look on his face. It’s not one of embarrassment, but rather confusion laced with admiration.

  “Where do you live, I’ll escort you home.”

  “Oh, no need, but that’s very sweet of you. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office,” I say and practically run off without looking back. To me that was a close call, and one that needs to never happen again. Once above ground I figure out my surroundings and trek back the four blocks to my place. In my apartment I toss my bag down on the small loveseat, change my clothes, and grab the delicious ice cream from the freezer. Plopping down I throw my feet up on the make shift coffee table and take out the folder containing my new adventure. Someone should shoot me for even thinking about going through with this plan that Ginger thinks is the greatest thing ever. I’m not cut out for this… I know that I’ll end up doing one show and be fired at the end of it. At least then Ginger won’t be upset with me for not trying. Seriously, who would tell their friend who blushes at the word penis to sell them? Oh, that’s right Ginger and only Ginger.

  Chapter Three

  According to the website in my packet, I need to register at a certain link. I notice that they also have video clips for each and every product they offer. I toss the folder down and stand to pace while I process this again. I’m trying to calculate the pros and cons without fully knowing the whole job. After pacing my matchbox sized apartment, I plop back down on the sofa and open my computer. Refreshing the browser, I click on the tab that’s flashing “Join Here”, and get the sense that I just signed my life away for the circus. I enter my name, address, and type in the pin number for the rep that I’ll be working under. I’ve already figured out that this is how you make extra money, getting people to work under you while you build your clients. One person explained how she has ten people under her and at least three bookings a week. I can’t imagine doing this full-time and my only plan is to do this for the extra money. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m not even going to make it past the first show, much less have multiple shows a week and return clients. I’m going to have to move, change my name and seek out the witness protection program just to live a normal life after this. I can see it now; I step off the subway and the whole crowd breaks out in laughter as they start pointing and whispering “That’s that girl that passed out from embarrassment when hosting a sex-toy show. Can you believe that she can’t even say the word penis without turning red or choking?”

  I look back at the screen and hit enter as I can’t back down- especially since Ginger dared me to do this. Next time I see her I’ll tell her good-bye for the last time as I need to plan my exit from the city. Confirming my email, I go back and start looking at a few of the items for sale. My face instantly heats up, my cheeks turning every shade of red and purple that you can imagine. With every scroll of the wheel on the mouse, my eyes get wider and wider. Suction cup dildos, anal training sets, one that looks like it was made for the queen of hearts. This one does catch my eye and I stop to stare at the design. If I’d seen this on a bookshelf, I’d consider it as art and not a glass dildo. The long glass tube has ribs from the wide base of glass to the tip, but what I find interesting is the bright red heart design just at the edge. It’s like the base and this heart are to keep your hands from sliding off. But then my mind goes instantly to the fact that it’s glass. What the hell!? People are putting glass up in the private areas of their womanhood? This requires me to open another browser, my fingers automatically typing ‘can glass dildos break inside your vagina?’. Lucky me, I’m not the only person that has Googled this phrase as a ton of articles and blogs pop up on the first page. Opening the first one, I’m taken to a blog that, from the looks of it, explains all kinds of toys, positions, and equipment. Something in me causes me to drag the cursor of my mouse up to the top right corner and star it for a favorite. This site looks like it might be my go to for explanations on all kinds of things. I mean, what happened to the simple toys? Where are the bullets, the sweet looking Rabbit- that was a hot hit? Like I said before, I’m not that boring and have a few things in my top drawer, but this is making my head spin…. Somehow I’m not sure what I just signed up for as this isn’t going to be like a Tupperware party, that’s for sure.

  I continue to click through the website and take in all the toys, lubricants, lingerie, and other miscellaneous items that they sell. My brain is in overdrive as I take it all in, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to remember each and every item. My starter kit will arrive in a few days, but with everything I’ve read they suggest that you go through and purchase a few other items to add to your kit. One lady stated that she orders a few extra items from each category to show. While another one stated in her video that she actually has a full inventory of all items, explaining that it’s good to have at least five of each item in stock. This will improve your sales as they can buy right then and there – no waiting, no ordering, and it equals happy customers when they arrive home with a bag of goodies. I’m nowhere near ready for that type of commitment; I’m still struggling with the fact that I’ll have to taxi around with a rolling case full of sex toys. Not to mention that I’ll need to use the subway at times. The image of me dragging this case behind me, it getting stuck and falling open to all of New York is now a fear. Can you picture me finding my seat and dildos falling out everywhere? If not, I sure the hell can. Why? Because if it will happen, it’ll happen to me. I jot down in my notebook that I need to get one of those small padlocks you use on luggage. This will ensure that the case will never just pop open. As I write this, I notice how my list is getting lon
ger and longer. It’s just simple stuff, but I still need to find the supplies and wait.

  The ding of an incoming email alerts me to switch over to my Microsoft account. I notice right away in the subject line ‘Welcome to the Team’. Opening the email, my eyes follow along with the letter.

  Dear Charlie,

  Welcome to Lust and Toys where we bring romance, sensuality, and fun to your nights. We’re thrilled to have you as our newest consultant and hope that you are just as excited as we are. Within the next few days you will receive your welcome packet, travel case, and start up kit. Please review each item and the online training videos that will correspond with the kit’s contents. Below you will find the next two shows that you can attend with me as training. Once you respond back to confirm that these dates will work, I can text you the directions and time.

  I advise that you wait until after the first night before you purchase any additional items, or if you click through the site and find a favorite of yours, feel free to order. We have found that others love to talk about their favorite toys. I mean what better way to sell an item than to know exactly what it does?

  If you have any questions, please feel free to email me back and we can schedule a time to chat or even meet for coffee.

  Friday April 22, 2016

  Monday April 25, 2016

  Again I look forward to hearing from you soon.

  Megan Rounds

  There is no way I’ll survive this. Do I bring my old toys, or do I have to purchase new ones? Never mind, I totally don’t need to answer that. I know I’m not showing my toys to anyone… I can’t even play with them in front of a boyfriend, much less explain to strangers what and how to have an orgasm with them. I snatch my phone from the cushion next to me and dial Ginger… She picks up on the third ring and before she can finish her greeting I start. “I’m so mad at you for this! I can’t believe you dared me to do this, what is in this for you? What are you going to gain by having me talk about sex, dildos, and anal plugs?”

 

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