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THE BANTER FILE

by

Justin Shaw

Copyright © 2001
All Rights Reserved



You know that expression; "you can't bullshit a bullshitter"? Well, I invented it. It's important that you realize that, I just don't have time for you to learn it on your own. I am 25 years old and I do good. I've been making six figures since college and I've done it all with smoke and mirrors. I've done it without expertise in any particular field and without familiarity of any body of knowledge. My success is directly attributable to the fact that I scream louder than the guy telling me "no" and I always, always get the last word. I realize this is abrupt, but time is the one luxury I do not have an abundance of at this point.

I fucked up. I really did. I blew the biggest account we had. So stupid, I got into a screaming match with their CEO after a few too many manhattans. The problem being he was drinking club soda while I drank enough booze for both of us. Now I've got to answer for what I've done. There is no doubt in my mind that I'm finished. My boss, that conniving, ass-kissing little prick is going to ax me.

That was Friday, today is Saturday. I woke up with a screaming hangover but it'll have to wait. I've got work to do. There is no way I'm going to let this very comfortable life that I stole fall apart around me, not without a fight. There would be casualties; there will be blood. I just don't quite know how, yet.

I got up early which is fairly normal for me when I've had too much to drink. I took a huge piss and brushed my teeth, fighting back the pounding between my temples and the empty queasiness in my stomach. Unfortunately, I never black out; I had complete recollection of last night's train wreck. He had told me that our relationship was terminated effective immediately and that I clearly lacked the professionalism to carry out his objectives. He didn't have faith in me or the direction that my company was moving. What was intended to be a friendly client dinner quickly regressed into damage control and then an outright drag 'em out no holds barred barroom brawl.

In my defense, it was bad from the word "go". He was pissed when I met him at the restaurant and I only started drinking when I realized we were going to have a problem. He had been right, to a point. They had placed a multi-million dollar order and we were lagging on the delivery. This wasn't the first time there had been problems either. My boss was aware of this, which is why he sent me out to meet him. My job was to smooth things over. My title is Director of Client Relations; it should be "shmoozer". My job was to conduct the behind the scenes negotiations, you know, get them drunk and laid and most importantly, sign on the dotted line.

Anyway, the argument quickly escalated beyond work issues and I suspected that this was the real motive behind our corporate breakup. The lack of professionalism that he had referred to on my part stemmed from a recent incident involving his secretary. Like I said, we had signed a multi-million dollar deal and the negotiations had been tedious. Many long nights were spent at his office, our office and the various fine dining establishments and drinking facilities around the city.

To make a long story short, I slept with his secretary. She was a sexy little thing and casual flirting eventually evolved into charming conversation laced with innuendo. We met for drinks well after work had been completed one night and one thing led to another.

Now I may be young, but I know this business pretty well. I'll sum it up for you really quickly, just so you know.

It's all about friends.

Enemies are bad in this business; the only way to succeed is to make the people who don't like you change their mind. Friends introduce you to prospects, friends get you out of trouble and friends watch your


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