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Monday, April 26, 2010

Chorizo for Christmas in Caracas

I did not write much after my initial blog was placed under review, I was hoping the misunderstanding would be cleared out. Instead, I find myself remiss in writing my history and getting some pictures. One of the unforgettable ones would fall under Office sex, not my office, his office that is.

It was December already and so many people have gone for the holidays. Now, Newsteel offers the best filing cabinets and systems, and we had transacted with them in previous months and yet the negotiations have been slow - and now the snag, the service representative assigned to us already went on vacation! Their office is now left to a 25 year old Moreno, who stands around 8-8, around 150 lbs, short cropped hair - the type I dream of having sex but being in my professional circle, I automatically delete in my wish list. Its risky since he would know where I actually work, and outing or black mail, is still a basic fear of everyone. Thus, I always acted as professional as I can - meaning even when they are so damn complacent and lazy, I could not bring out the BITCH in me! I mean, hello, how hard is it to email our company for the quotations? They promise to email quotations and yet a week has passed, nothing, nada! I already know their prices by a personal visit with my boss, but I need a formal quotation to support my voucher and other paper work. Hell, I was giving them business and yet they seem not to be interested. I know, this is Caracas, and unfortunately, theirs is the best deal!!

I finally got my priced quotation, for I chanced upon their general manager and he understood english - and he is a white Colombian, I went directly again to their office. He stressed that they are there and would be open until 5 pm. So, in the same day, with check on hand I went back - The office is closed, dark, and chained, definitely closed.

And so, the monday next, I waited patiently for them to open. There was only one person - Luis Fernando. Damn, he is young and attractive. I was all smiles, showing my white "sharp like" smile and said ...

"What happened? Is something wrong? I went back last Friday and it was already closed."

"Estoy en al almuerzo (oh, I was out on lunch)"

"at 4 pm? I waited for an hour" (Yes, one of those occasional times, I lied, I actually only waited for 10 minutes)

He was undeniably lost on what to answer, on what to reply. I smiled more, to make him squirm - Gotcha!!

"Que come chorizo? (Do you eat chorizo?)"

What the fuck is he saying? Is he inviting me for lunch? Did I understand his spanish. I lost my footing. My face is that of shock, suprised, and then silence. Hmmmm.. trying to bribe me with food, free lunch, not bad. I smiled, Si, cuando (when).

"Quiza en la tarde. Te llamas (Maybe in the afternoon. I will call you)"

Oh, typical of them, a late lunch. Oh well, free lunch is free lunch. At least this is one meal i do not have to pay. Arriving back at the office, I immediately told the incident to our interpreter. He laughed. He understand the offer, but its not exactly free food. Venezolanos like to use metaphor, food and sex, mingled. Is Helmunt right, and I was wrong? Oh my god, if he is right, should I go along or not? I mean - try as I can, I do not recall ever having sex so mixed with business. Well, I heard of bringing clients to clubs and getting whores or agents having sex with clients... but for me, this would be a first, if I allow it. I mean, that would open me at possible disadvantage to him. I recall sucking my dentist for a job well done, but that was personal business. What else? Sucking the security guard in the night shift of my office building. Having sex in the storage room, president´s room but with strangers.

He said he would call. I already paid for our order, and that is it! wait and see, will decide later, let us see where this leads too. I might be right, it was simply an offer of food, nothing more, or Helmunt is right and the sales agent is offering himself since I caught him escaping work and that I can report him.

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