I been around, you know. Hitting here and there, and offering my services. Well, not exactly offering, but selling them at a good enough price. I can make a difference, see. I can change the fortunes of a small business, turn them right around. I got good instincts and a sharp eye. Won’t take a penny unless I can make things better, but when I do well, then I takes a fistful of dollars and I’m worth every goddam cent and no one does say otherwise.
They don’t know me from Adam at first, the businesses I call on, and so I am always kept waiting in a stuffy side room with out of date magazines arranged any old how on a low wooden table, and a secretary offers me bad coffee and I ask if it’s ok to smoke. She doesn’t remembers my name, not till I tell her she’s pretty and she looks like a model or a filmstar. She knows I’m just messing, but she’s flattered, too, and she says she’ll see if her boss will see me now.
The boss is overweight and tired, and he says he can give me two minutes and he asks me my name again and scribbles it down on a scrap bit of paper and then he looks at his watch like he’s counting. I don’t waste time on pleasantries but get right to it. I tell it to him straight. I say as how I reckon what his turnover might be for the last twelvemonth and I say to him that’s all shit and if he’s satisfied with that for the next twelve then I should just go.
He looks at me different then and he is not any longer looking at his watch. He reads my name from the scrap of paper in his hand and he asks me to go on.
I tell him I can double what he brings in and I can do it easier as a dog shitting and I list the companies where I have made a difference. I give him my card and I say he should think about it, and I tell him the two minutes is up and I leave before he can stop me.
The secretary is called Abigail and I tell her again that she is pretty and I ask her if she’s busy after work and we agree to meet for a drink. I don’t tell her that I think her skirt’s too short, or that her teeth are too white or her make-up too thick. I don’t tell her that I could make a difference in her life, but I could.
I get to the bar before she does and I order martinis for us both and I check my phone for messages. Abigail’s boss has called three times. I haven’t answered. It’s like fishing, see, and you have to know when it’s right to reel them in. I loosen the knot of my tie and I light up a cigarette and I try to picture Abigail without her clothes.
She arrives breathless and a minute late and she is all smiles and she smells of freshly applied Chanel and her lips are painted red as tomatoes. I stand up and I pull out her chair. She is surprised and then pleased. It hasn’t happened before, that a man has treated her so well. She sips at her martini and then she says that her boss has been trying to reach me.
I order up another round of drinks and I know this whole thing is going to be so easy.
Patricia Ann McNair 
I been around, you know. Hitting here and there, and offering my services. Well, not exactly offering, but selling them at a good enough price. I can make a difference, see. I can change the fortunes of a small business, turn them right around. I got good instincts and a sharp eye. Won’t take a penny unless I can make things better, but when I do well, then I takes a fistful of dollars and I’m worth every goddam cent and no one does say otherwise.
They don’t know me from Adam at first, the businesses I call on, and so I am always kept waiting in a stuffy side room with out of date magazines arranged any old how on a low wooden table, and a secretary offers me bad coffee and I ask if it’s ok to smoke. She doesn’t remembers my name, not till I tell her she’s pretty and she looks like a model or a filmstar. She knows I’m just messing, but she’s flattered, too, and she says she’ll see if her boss will see me now.
The boss is overweight and tired, and he says he can give me two minutes and he asks me my name again and scribbles it down on a scrap bit of paper and then he looks at his watch like he’s counting. I don’t waste time on pleasantries but get right to it. I tell it to him straight. I say as how I reckon what his turnover might be for the last twelvemonth and I say to him that’s all shit and if he’s satisfied with that for the next twelve then I should just go.
He looks at me different then and he is not any longer looking at his watch. He reads my name from the scrap of paper in his hand and he asks me to go on.
I tell him I can double what he brings in and I can do it easier as a dog shitting and I list the companies where I have made a difference. I give him my card and I say he should think about it, and I tell him the two minutes is up and I leave before he can stop me.
The secretary is called Abigail and I tell her again that she is pretty and I ask her if she’s busy after work and we agree to meet for a drink. I don’t tell her that I think her skirt’s too short, or that her teeth are too white or her make-up too thick. I don’t tell her that I could make a difference in her life, but I could.
I get to the bar before she does and I order martinis for us both and I check my phone for messages. Abigail’s boss has called three times. I haven’t answered. It’s like fishing, see, and you have to know when it’s right to reel them in. I loosen the knot of my tie and I light up a cigarette and I try to picture Abigail without her clothes.
She arrives breathless and a minute late and she is all smiles and she smells of freshly applied Chanel and her lips are painted red as tomatoes. I stand up and I pull out her chair. She is surprised and then pleased. It hasn’t happened before, that a man has treated her so well. She sips at her martini and then she says that her boss has been trying to reach me.
I order up another round of drinks and I know this whole thing is going to be so easy.