Medicine For Men

This post probably belongs on A Voice in the Wind, but it strikes me as creative, so I'm putting it here.

Not too long ago I worked for a temporary agency. Through the agency I found myself working at a company as a data entry employee, helping them catch up on a half year's worth of paperwork. Being a fast typist (well, faster than a lot of people), I was able to accomplish this task quickly enough.

Since I wasn't an employee of the company where I was actually working, I was not given a desk with others in the department. Instead, I was placed in the very center of the Sales Department, because they had an extra cubicle space.

Now the people in the department which owned the records I was entering into the system hated the sales department. Some of their animosity was warranted, as they didn't particularly care for all of the entitlements the sales staff got. On the other hand, the sales staff lived much more precarious lives. Fail to sell enough and you don't have a job.

I could never do sales, and I (kind of) respect those who can. If they're really good, I do respect them. If they simply know how to take advantage of people, I don't. But more than respect, I generally like being around sales people. They are usually up and positive. Granted, a lot of that positive energy is forced - part of the persona they put on in order to do their jobs. But it's still fun and energetic. This was another reason for the A-Type group's dislike of sales people. Sales people always seem to be wasting time.

That's the way it seemed where I was sitting. The staff would be in a constant state of chatter, mostly telling jokes and making fun. To be fair, there were times when it got quiet and each sales representative was busy at their own telephone. Or perhaps they had left on a sales trip to wherever. But when they were all around it was usually fun and games. I frequently found myself laughing at their antics, even though most of the time I didn't really get the inside jokes.

There was one woman in particular. I'll call her Leez. She was about four foot eleven, a very smart dresser, and silly beyond description. She frequently entertained her co-workers with tales of her husband. Those made the best stories. The department was about 60% women, and they loved to talk about the silly things their husbands did. But not in a mean way. To them it was just fun and games, and Leez's stories of her husband were frequently hilarious.

But it wasn't always husband stories which made me laugh. Another rep (let's refer to her as Ceelia) told how she had brought her preschool daughter to a public pool. When they had finished and were changing into her street clothes she saw here daughter walk back out into the pool are stark naked. Fearful of what could happen the woman ran out after her - in her underwear.

My favorite story, though, came from Leez. Although in his forties, her husband was still going through the big "macho" phase. Or perhaps it was a relapse to his youth. Like many women, she found his efforts to prove his youth and vigor amusing. Soon, all the women were adding their own observations of their own husbands. The condition appears to be pandemic. Leez said, "What I'm thinking of doing is handing him a bottle of prescription tables. Udaman. All men need to take these. Udaman. Take 'em when your ego is down."

It probably isn't really funny, but as the company was a pharmeceutical company it struck me as funny. And so I made up a bottle of UDAMAN tablets. Take 'em as needed.

I go through them by the gross.