THE FOUR MARTINI LUNCH
by Janine Bouyssounouse
"Aren't you going to have one?" said Mr. Gibbs
"No, I don't drink," said Marv.
"Well, I don't drink alone, Marv. If you plan on selling me something, then you must have a martini. I insist."
"Alright, if you insist."
"Two martinis, please. We'll have the steak to go with those martinis. Four martinis is my limit, so cut me off when you've served all four," said Mr. Gibbs.
The martini sat there on the table. I stared at it and lost all concentration on my sales pitch. I knew I needed this sale and I knew he was a drinker. I thought I could do it. I thought I could get out of ordering a drink, but he insisted.
It's calling to me. It's only a bend of an arm away from my lips. The memory of good times came to mind. The memory of the women, the laughs, the simple way of talking to people that came with the courage of the bottle. What would it hurt? How bad could one drink be?
Memories from the last time I used that reasoning came rushing back and the time locked up behind bars was more than I wanted to revisit.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Gibbs. I just remembered an urgent engagement I must attend to. If this makes you decide against my products for your company, then I will have to live with that. Please have this lunch on me."
I dropped a fifty dollar bill on the table and left. No matter what, I wasn't going to be able to keep the job. At least this way I can find another one.
Janine is toning up her writing skills with Flash Fiction to improve her educational materials. For more info, see her website at www.edonyourown.com.
