EPISODE 49

“Michael!” an irate Sasha Haskins practically shouted at me over the telephone one afternoon.  “These leads you guys have sent me are shit!”

I could picture her standing in her office.  Perhaps she was wearing that same simple black outfit I’d seen her in at the training seminar a while back.  She was pissed, which actually made imagining the whole scene even more appealing to me.  Her eyes were a sight when she was angry.  They exuded a power and strength that belied her small stature.  When she’d stood up to Bosco, she had seemed so small physically compared to him.  Bosco stood a good 14 inches taller than Sasha, but when she had called him out on what she considered to be his bullshit, she had been very imposing.  The disadvantage for me then was that while I was incurring Sasha’s entire wrath, I wasn’t able to take in what I was sure was a striking visual.  I pulled myself away from that thought and greeted her.

“Sasha!  How are you?”

“I’m pissed at you and Bosco is how I am!”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s the leads, Michael.  They’re completely useless.  This was what I half expected though.  This whole thing is just another of Bosco’s con jobs.  Guys like you two assholes are what give this business a bad reputation.  All you do is come up with an unending parade of scams that deliver nothing!  I can’t believe it really.  Why did I convince myself that this would be any different?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Michael!  That’s the whole problem!  I called every one of these freaking leads and not one of them even booked an appointment to come in for a consultation.  I paid you $1200 for my precious ‘exclusive membership’ and then another ten bucks for every one of these shit leads.  This last batch set me back over $300!  Come on!  More than 30 leads and not one booking?  Explain that to me!”

“How did you respond to the leads?” I asked.

“Well, the ones that had a phone number, I called.  But damn it!  Most of those leads didn’t have a number at all.  Why the hell should I pay you a dime for them?”

“Didn’t they all come with email addresses, Sasha?”

“How should I know?  Honestly!  This is all such a pile of bullshit!  I’m supposed to fucking know where to look for this address?  What the fuck am I supposed to do with it anyway?  I don’t have Internet service here!  Shit!  I don’t even have it at home.  Why the hell should I have to?  I mean, FUCK, Michael!  What are you and Bosco pulling on me here?”

And she was off.  Sasha launched into a tirade for the ages.  As she worked her way into it, I realized that this might be something that the rest of the folks in the office might enjoy and so I put Sasha on the speakerphone.  Suddenly, her increasingly angry voice filled my office.  I walked over to the door and opened it.  Bosco was the first to hear what was happening and he stood in the doorway, looking concerned.  I went back to my desk and picked up the putter I always left leaning against it. I’d set up a space on the floor where I could practice my putting and given that Sasha seemed to be engaged in what was likely to be a fairly long monologue, I figured that this was as good a time as any to get in a few strokes.  Bosco walked over to me and mouthed out ‘Who is that?’

“Sasha Haskins,” I whispered and Bosco smiled.

“She’s pretty pissed off at you,” he whispered.

“You too!” I replied as the putt that I’d lined up sailed off to the right.  “Shit, I pushed it too much.”

Bosco reached for the putter and I handed it off to him.  As he was lining up his first shot, Leah came in.  She quickly took in the scene and responded in the only manner that seemed appropriate.

“What in the hell is going on in here?” she cried.

Bosco and I quickly put our fingers to our lips and pointed frantically at the telephone.  Sasha continued her colorful indictment of Bosco, me, and the rest of the male dominated hair replacement industry.  Leah was appalled and gestured that we should join her in the hallway.

“Bosco?” she asked pointedly.  No other question seemed necessary.  Leah’s assumption that Bosco was responsible for whatever mess we were in at any given moment was not based on bad science.  She looked accusingly at both of us though and so I offered an explanation. 

“It’s Sasha Haskins.  She’s upset about the new leads.”

“I think she a bit more than ‘upset’,” Leah responded.  Her facial expression was filled with disapproval. 

“Well?” Leah demanded, “What are you two going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Bosco answered.

“At least not until Sasha’s finished venting,” I added quickly.

The three of us looked over at the telephone.  Sasha was still going strong and had clearly not heard a word we had said.  Bosco started to chuckle and I smiled.  Even Leah could see that it was pretty funny, but she was a hell of a lot more practical than either Bosco or I.  She smiled quickly and pointed at both of us.

“Just fix it!” Leah said and then she left.

Sasha seemed to be slowing down.  In fact, the volume of her voice had come down quite a bit and she was beginning to speak more slowly.  Her breathing was a bit ragged, like she’d just finished climbing a long flight of stairs.  I took the putter back from Bosco, went back to my desk, leaned it in its usual spot between the wall and the desk corner, sat down in my chair and waited.  Bosco waved to me from the doorway and left.  I took Sasha off the speaker and lifted the received to my ear.

The next episode of SlipNot will be published on August 9th.

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