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THE TIMING Joe Parente


Chapter 1


I'm half-asleep; the alarm goes off. Did I just eat a ball of cotton? I reach over with the worst headache and shut the buzzer. There is nothing worse than waking up in a hotel without a female bed warmer. With this bad taste in my mouth, who would want to? That last double Chivas must have done it. I guess that my luck has been running a little low. In fact, I canā€™t remember how unlucky I have been lately. I think I remember being an undesirable jerk to that woman I sat next to last night. It may have been the ice. Yeah, bad ice in that final drink; thatā€™s it. Shit.

When I asked for the position I thought my travels would lead me to the ā€œPromised Land of Bachelorhoodā€. Boy was I mistaken; it took as much labor to get one in the sack as it did to get a client for Rhortec.

And so, here I am alone, trying to be excited about my new client. Though, Iā€™ll tell you this life beats the grueling ā€˜day to day time clockā€™ of an office. I spent three years at headquarters going out of my mind. Iā€™m not the in your face, every day sort a guy.

When the available opening came up to be on the road as a salesman, it didnā€™t take long to beg for this job. Unfortunately, the mysterious disappearance of my predecessor has kept me wondering about his reclaiming his position. Frank was a good man. He had no family, no sisters or brothers, not even an ex-wife. I have had more ex-wives than I am proud of. Thatā€™s something to not be happy about; I think.

I suppose work burn out got to him and he went to the Bahamas, Mexico or somewhere. Iā€™ve toasted him every night since I took over his spot. Although we were friends, Frank was a strange sort of guy. I couldnā€™t put my finger on it. He was a little off. I could never get too close to his psyche.

The company waited thirty-five days until the word got around that they were ready to fill the position.

Rhortec is an unusual company. They are a time management firm that improves the bottom line of any client that signs the contract. This is where I come in. The office sends the leads and using my Rhortec training, I dangle the bait in front of the buyer. Once the hook is set, Rhortec takes over and becomes the efficiency expert. With the better use of time, they can eliminate some labor and make the prospect more profitable. The fine-tuning of this process is on a need to know basis. My job is to present the program and get them started on the new way to management. The tough part is to get the final approval for the contract.
Just before Frank left, I had heard he had stumbled onto the secret that makes things work. All I know is that it DOES work and so far we have never lost a client. I hope Frank doesnā€™t show up and try to re-claim his job.

I am not a magical salesman but I know how to manipulate people. They seem to like me. As a lone child, I was always able to get my way. My folks spoiled me rotten because they must have felt bad about not being able to have other children.

The only thing I was lousy at was putting the final on women. Before ā€˜the end movesā€™, they discover that I am a brat. Things always go sour from there. This mating ritual not always eluded me but there was always the lucky break. It just didnā€™t happen often enough. This experience taught me to be humble, but only at times. It was the last drink that usually gets the trouble started. This is why Iā€™m alone this fine morning. At least I have the start of a grand day, with a horrible hangover and all the trimmings.

I havenā€™t looked outside yet. Why rush it? By the time I glanced at the clock, I realized I had better get rolling. It was 9:00am.

Feeling fortunate that I didnā€™t cut something off after shaving, I toweled off and slid on my shorts. This hangover was worse than I thought but with a little Visine I could look into my steaming mirror and recognize myself once more.

Deciding to finally open the blinds, the bright daylight hit me like a thunder bolt. It slapped me across the forehead giving me an instant headache. This hangover WAS indeed a lot worse than I had thought.

Bravely I dialed room service; my order of tomato juice and bagel arrived in the nick of time. I had already downed a shot of my required vodka from the room bar. The second shot went into the tomato juice and I instantly felt I could maybe take on the world and possibly the opening of the dreaded drapes again. Yes sir, it was a bright day and the smashing of bright didnā€™t hurt so badly now.

Up on the tenth floor and feeling better, I braved my view of straight down. What I saw was the hustle and bustle of life, complete with horns blasting with busier than usual traffic and the odor of the day wafting up. It filled my nostrils with grayish brown smog. Gosh, it was great to be alive! I dressed, with the finishing touches of my favorite power tie and felt confident after checking it for the absence of food stains. Bending down to don my shoes and socks the sudden straightening instantly told me to rise gently. Blood pressure rising to my head must have been close to the feeling that Mt. Saint Helens must have felt during the last eruption. ā€œOh well,ā€ I said to my self, ā€œIā€™ll get over itā€. Recovery was quickly absorbed after a shot of what the dog bit me. Grabbing my briefcase, I hit the elevator for my appointment.

Remembering an old movie about a happy on top of the world salesman, I attempted to whistle a happy tune. Discovering for the thousandth time that I couldnā€™t whistle, I aborted my attempt. Thank God, I did it in time because the elevator door opened at the sixth floor and a beautiful red head entered the lift. I tried to look into her eyes but soon discovered that she was followed by a big brute of a boyfriend. He was very successful in looking directly into my eyes. Not wanting to thrash him into a pulp I quickly looked down and again tried to whistle. They got off at the next floor as I sighed with out-going breath.

The door opened at the bustling lobby as I walked sideways through the people that were lined up at the registration desk; I was glad I wouldnā€™t have to check out for a couple of days so I headed toward the bell man.

ā€œGood morning sir, may I assist you?ā€ he asked.

ā€œYes, you can call for a cab,ā€ I said.

ā€œCertainly sir,ā€ he replied with an English accent. ā€It will take a few moments sir.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s fine. Iā€™m early anyway.ā€ I looked at my watch. ā€œIā€™m quite early.ā€

Deciding what to do next, I took in the expanse of the lobby. It was a very large open room with beautiful decor. The walls were painted in an exciting business mural of a busy downtown city with the vanishing point of Times Square as a focal point. Around the mural, were men with top hats reminding me of the early 1900ā€™s complete with trolley cars and early horse drawn carriages. It had the look of commerce in a much kinder way than what takes place in todayā€™s world. I have often wished that I could have lived during those times. If I had lived then knowing what I know now about business, I am sure that in no time, wealth would shine my way.

I walked over to the coffee bar and ordered a large cup, but then decided to help myself to three spoons of sugar to add to the black liquid. I knew that this was going to make me feel a lot better than I did a half hour ago. The sweet cup did exactly that and I was grateful.

As I looked through the windows at the downtown area, things outside were really starting to pop. Hustle and bustle, cabs, luggage and town cars were every where. People were clambering to go somewhere. You could tell that the patience of some was running thin each time the crowd or heavy traffic blocked someoneā€™s way. I hated it but I still loved it. There is nothing like the anticipated high of getting and closing my first sale for the company.

Just as I had finished with my coffee, the bell man motioned that my cab had arrived. It was exactly like all the others, as I peered through the glass doors of the hotel, a bright yellow Checker Cab was impatiently ready to take me away. I handed a couple of bucks to the bell man as I walked out of the automatic opening of heavy glass doors.

As soon as I had stepped off of the last entry step something happened.

The surrounding sky that filtered through the buildings was black, and as I looked around everything was now at night! What the hell! I was only a few steps from the cab and the only light that I could see was the dim light bulbs of the closed business up and down the street. What was a very busy metro New York, was now a row of closed store fronts and not a sole around. ā€œWhat the hell!ā€ as I muttered quietly to myself in disbelief.

I couldnā€™t have had this bad of a hang -over for this to happen. ā€œCould I?ā€ I said to myself.

I felt my arms as a little nervous sweat started on my foreheadā€ What the hell?ā€ Twisting back the darkness enveloped me. It looked as though the hotel was out of business. No light penetrated the glass. I could not see anyone or anything inside the pitch-black hotel opening. Totally confused, I pushed at the doors. The doors opened! I stepped inside the threshold.

As soon as my whole body passed the double, heavy

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