The Right Man for the Job Part 8

Rare is the time when I don’t relish receiving recognition. It was ironic how the morale of my teammates plummeted after my vocational success. Nancy didn’t care about my blistering productivity. She only cared about the distraught look I carried with me everywhere. For Troy, my attitude had proved contagious. Now he was back to his sulky self. I wasn’t sure why.
“What’s the matter with you two? The sun’s a-shining and you’re far away from young girls—just where you want to be, right? Or am I missing something?” Nancy confronted us one afternoon. Troy and I were sitting on the ground as she towered over us, hands on her hips, waiting for us to make our case. But our mouths stayed closed. I was staring down at my shoes and Troy was plucking blades of grass and staring at them intently. “Boys. You’re so stupid sometimes. So things are hard. So things aren’t the way you’d like them to be. Get over yourselves. You think I like hanging around with you when you’re acting like this? You’re not the only ones with problems. I’ve got a family to provide for. Maybe I want things to be pleasant while I’m doing it. Try to perk up. I thought you were mature.” Troy and I looked at each other, but still refused to speak. “All right. Come with me.”
She took us to a dock where a lone jet ski was situated.
“Staff use only,” she said to us. She eased herself into the driver’s seat and beckoned for us to join her. “We just have to huddle close if we all want to fit.” Troy took up the rear as not to be enclosed by two taller people. He unhooked the jet ski from the dock and we ventured off. “We’re technically still on duty here so keep this on the down low,” she reminded us.
Troy and I didn’t ask questions. Although he grumbled as he was occasionally sprayed with water that shot up from the back once we were on our way.
Our destination was what looked like some private beach not under Del Boca Vista’s jurisdiction. Nancy told us she had been there several times before. She had discovered it a few years prior. She made it a ritual to go there when she was feeling troubled.
She landed our vessel on the shore. The back of Troy’s shorts was damp. He untucked his shirt to hide this.
Nancy pointed to the horizon. “The sun is getting ready to set.”
“I’ve seen it set before, Nancy,” Troy bickered.
“What’s the problem, Troy?” Nancy asked. “What’s eating you?”
“Nothing,” he responded, turning away.
“Bullshit,” she said. “There’s something. What is it? You can tell me. We’re friends.”
He shuffled his feet in the sand aimlessly. Then after some internal waffling he turned back around. “I’ve got problems with authority,” he admitted. “I don’t like being bossed around. I get enough of that at home. Ever since I’ve been here I’ve been doing what other people tell me to do.”
“That’s what work is, Troy,” Nancy said. “You’re not getting paid to have fun and do what you want.”
“I know that,” Troy said. “But everyone else is older than me. I feel like they’re taking advantage of me. I don’t just mean the other workers; I mean the sweaty, sunbathing sluts and the incompetent idiots who come here that I’ve had to deal with. It’s not fair. I should get some respect around here. I should get some respect somewhere.”
“You did all that work just the way you were supposed to and they promoted you, didn’t they? They respect you enough to do that,” I told him.
“Yeah but the promotion isn’t what I thought it would be. Sure I get to drive a golf cart around, but I don’t feel like I have any freedom.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that, Troy,” Nancy said. “Sorry if I’ve been bossy. Sorry you have to take orders from a woman.”
“I’m not blaming you.”
“Say,” she continued, “look around at where you are now. Pecho Del Sol’s all the way over there.” She pointed out across the way. We could see the hotel and tiny images of people walking around. “We’re bending the rules a little bit right now when we should be over there working. That’s freedom.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Troy agreed. “But what about when we go back to work? What then?”
“I’ll try to give you more authority from now on. And if people take advantage of you, I’ll intervene,” she answered. He seemed satisfied, and sat down on the sand. “Also, if you keep talking the way you do about women, no girl will ever consent to having sex with you.”
“Okay,” he said.
Nancy turned to me. “You,” she said.
“Me what?” I asked.
“You’ve got other problems,” she said.
“I never meant to include you in my problems,” I told her.
“I’m not accusing you of anything. I just want to see if I can help.”
“I’m okay.”
“Hiding from those two girls whenever they ride by is not okay.”
“…Touché.”
“You need to talk to them at some point.”
“I’m going to. I’m just not ready yet.”
“When will you be ready?”
“I don’t know. When the time is right, I guess.”
Nancy looked out at the horizon again. “Look at it, boys,” she told us. We did so. “It’s just about to disappear from view.” We watched as the sun, now a semi-circle, descended into the horizon line. Then just a few seconds later, it was gone.
“That was so fast,” I said.
Nancy turned back to me and looked at me very seriously. “Yes it was. Summer isn’t going to be here for much longer. You and those girls are going to be leaving this job pretty soon and moving on to the next thing. There isn’t much time. If you’re going to work this out, you’ll have to act fast.”

I was feeling better after that. So was Troy. He no longer made sexist remarks and Nancy let him carry the walkie-talkie around and make some minor decisions. I had stopped working so vigorously, though I still worked purposefully. However, instead of trying to ignore Darlene and Eleanor, I started thinking about how I could insert myself back into their equation and somehow make everybody happy. But I couldn’t think of anything. I no longer hid from them when they rode by. I politely waved and they waved back. They didn’t stop to talk though. I guessed I would have to be the one to initiate any conversations.
Due to an approaching wedding that would be held on their premises, Pecho Del Sol felt compelled to hire more employees. There would be more to do to make sure the wedding was a success. Our modest group felt the effects of these add-ons. One day, we received our fourth group member, the stunning blonde Barbara Michelle.
She was my age. She had great features and a bubbly personality. She was a nice size and had a nice complexion. She had well-kempt hair that smelled terrific. But from the first day I was aware of something odd about her, which prevented me from being attracted to her. It had nothing to do with her physical features, however. Those were pretty impressive.
Nancy had this thing about patting people on the ass. It was a sign of encouragement. Whenever Troy and I did something well she’d give us a swift pat on the ass. She transferred the same habit over to Barbara Michelle’s ass so she would feel included. Troy and I never thought much of this little action when it landed on our backsides. But for Barbara Michelle, it was something different.
The first time it happened to her, she stopped what she was doing. Nancy just kept on walking, paying no attention. When I noticed that she was just standing there, I approached her to see if there was a problem. I thought that maybe she was disgusted at Nancy’s good-intended invasion of privacy. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Barbara Michelle’s eyes were closed, and she was smiling.
“Hey, Barbara Michelle,” I said.
“What?” Her eyes opened quickly.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. You were just standing there. Is something wrong?”
“Oh no, Kelso. Everything is just dandy!” And then she kept moving. By the looks of it, everything did seem quite dandy. Right after it happened, I didn’t think much about it. But in the following ass-pats, Barbara Michelle reacted similarly to that first time—as if she enjoyed them immensely and had to stop what she was doing right away so she could savor the moment.
Then came another exhibition of interesting behavior. It was Barbara Michelle’s first day of driving the cart around. We were moseying along at a reasonable pace when she started to slow down. Nearby, a woman was walking around in a bikini. It was evident that Barbara Michelle was trying to manage quick, subtle glances at this woman. She tried to play it off and just picked up speed again. But that was just one woman. There were lots of women like that walking around this place, everywhere you looked. That same day, we encountered somewhat of a procession of scantily clad females and Barbara Michelle practically stopped the cart to watch them go by.
“What’s the hold-up?” Nancy asked.
“I think I have that same bathing suit,” Barbara Michelle mumbled, then punched the gas.
When she started making detours on the pathways that were laden with clearly visible throngs of ladies in thongs, I developed a hunch about her.
One fateful day, that hunch became assertion. We had business at the beach, replacing a beach umbrella that someone had apparently run off with. If the culprit was still at Pecho Del Sol, we figured we would capture them eventually because things like those aren’t easy to hide. But anyways, we had all strolled onto the luxurious white sands, carrying this hefty umbrella, when we noticed a wet, sandy woman lying flat on the ground, eyes closed. It was clear she wasn’t just sunbathing because she wasn’t breathing. No one else seemed to have taken up action yet, the lazy bastards. I guess the lifeguards were chewing the fat or seducing women or something. So Barbara Michelle dashed away and stooped over this unconscious swimmer. She began performing good old CPR very respectably. But then she got to the mouth-to-mouth part and she really got into it. She was clearly spending way too much time doing that than she was probably supposed to. At this point, other guests had started to take notice. Even the lifeguards showed up to watch. After that first round of procedures, Barbara Michelle repositioned herself so that she was kind of “saddled-up” atop this girl. She did the pumping of the chest then proceeded to her favorite part. This time, the girl on the ground was aroused, but only in one sense of the term. When she laid eyes on Barbara Michelle practically spelunking in her mouth, she let out a wail and shoved her away so she could breathe freely.
“What were you doing?!” the woman demanded, spitting.
“Rescuing you.”
“Well thank you. Thank you for rescuing me. But that’s—“ she didn’t finish. She just ran off, shaking her head.
Barbara Michelle sat there, face full of longing and disappointment. It was then that I realized what I had to do.

“Thanks for buying me drinks, Kelso. It’s so nice of you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Barbara Michelle.”
“Did Nancy not want to come?”
“I didn’t invite her. I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“How come?”
I tried to approach this as gingerly as possible. She sipped from her martini. I too had a martini as a ploy to make her feel comfortable around me. I looked around and saw Bobby Bartender manning the fort as usual. To my relief, Darlene was nowhere to be found.
“Barbara Michelle, I’m so glad you’re with us. I really am.”
“Ditto,” she chirped. “I like everybody in our little squad. We’re so cute together. And we’re so diverse.”
“That’s one way to put it. Hey, you know what I really like about you?”
“What?”
“Your approach to work. It’s so… unique. And so sincere! Man, that scene on the beach was really something.”
“Well, you know, I was just doing everything I could.” She sounded like she was just trying to brush it aside, like she was embarrassed, which was understandable.
“I’m serious. That kind of dedication is a wonder to behold—I was touched. I think Troy and Nancy were too. I looked over and saw their mouths were absolutely agape.”
“That woman didn’t feel the same way.”
“Well, I think it was just your style that threw her off. I imagine that might be a jarring sight for another woman to wake up to.”
She fiddled with her beverage. Her eyes were downcast. “Kelso, why did you want to talk to me alone?”
“Just so we could get to know each other better.” This wasn’t entirely false, but admittedly not my main objective, and it seemed evident that she had realized this. So I changed the subject. “You know what else I like about you?”
“What?”
“You’re gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” she replied flatly. This was the kind of tone I was hoping for.
“You know, I have this other friend, also very attractive. I think you may have a lot in common with her. Her name’s Eleanor. Eleanor Di Papriccia.”
“That’s a nice name.”
“Isn’t it? It’s Italian.”
“Why do you think we may have a lot in common? Besides our ravishing good looks, I mean.”
“You’re both… girls.”
“And?”
I was cracking under pressure. This wasn’t how I wanted to get to the point, but these things happen. “You both would like each other very much… in terms of… sensuality… and sexuality… I think.”
“Oh… so you brought me here to set me up with a girl?” Her excitement seemed to return.
“Yes… I couldn’t help noticing some of your… tendencies. Is that something you’d be on board for? An eligible, flamboyant bachelorette such as yourself.”
“Of course I’m on board! You’re so good to me, Kelso. When do I meet her?”
“As soon as possible.”