Chapter 1: The Office Seductress

Office Romance Quote:
Hi! My name is Jack,” the Little Man said, “and you know what happens to me when there’s all work and no play…”

The story begins…
I read it again.

“Tunde, come and suck my nipples. I am already on my bed waiting for you.”

Needless to say, the message had me speechless. 

The reasons were simple.

First of all, my name wasn’t Tunde. It is JonXavier.

Second of all, the message wasn’t even meant for me. This wasn’t really surprising considering the fact that it hadn’t come to my phone in the first place. It had gone to Tunde’s. I had no previous idea who he was or that he even existed till now. It was barely a few minutes ago that I had actually made acquaintance with his code name: M. H. 1.

Thirdly, the nipples in question did belong to a lady whose tits I had been eyeing like mad for months. It agonized me seriously that despite all my failed schemes for some weeks now to collide with those breasts “accidentally”, Tunde was been given them free of charge and even being commanded (in my opinion) to come and suck them.

Life is so unfair…

And to think that before she had been the one flaunting those mammaries in my face and shaking her marvelously shaped rump at me and I was the one who acted then like I had a bad case of glaucoma. Now the tables were turned and I was the one who had been seriously gunning for her like an English Premier League team struggling to stay out of relegation. She held all the aces now. She had become the umpire in our seduction game.

It pissed me off even further how for the past few weeks I had been crazily chasing after her, she had been waving the religion trump card in my face, successfully drowning out all my mushy talk by quoting well-chosen Bible verses. To make matters worse, she had recently taken to call me “Brother Jon”.

Brother indeed! Just make a mistake and visit my crib one evening and I’ll show you how well we’re related!

There is an accessory that can be usually found in almost every workplace where males and females are employed. From construction sites to bank boardrooms, this personality always makes its presence felt and even in the few environments where individuals of only one gender work, it is a given that this device will find its way from its own office into your own as sure as men have testosterone.

I am talking about the Office Seductress. When in all-female surroundings, the accessory then changes gender and materializes as the Office Seducer.

Miss Tits didn’t work in my male-dominated office so we just borrowed her as our own Office Seductress.

But back to that text message. I navigated out of the Sent Messages menu and into the Inbox. What had turned into an eye-opener for me had actually begun innocently enough. The phone on which I had just read the SMS actually belonged to Miss Tits. She had given it to me to play with and out of boredom I happened to scroll through the phonebook which was ultra-boring indeed. Every name on it was Brother This or Sister That. No “Mugu One” or even “Uncle” for that matter. Then my eye caught a number with the code name “M. H. 1”.

I love code names. In my Spy Book, M. H. 1 stands for only one thing: My Husband 1. Or Mr. Handsome 1. OK, make that two things…

Naturedly I had to make all the right excuses where she was concerned. I knew she was single because she wore no wedding band. Simple. The intrigue was amplified. Soon I had unearthed another phone number tagged M. H. 2. Was that My Husband’s second number or did she have a second My Husband? From there, the voyage to reading her text messages to and from MH1 and MH2 was the natural option. I lamely soothed my conscience by saying I had to find out if she was really “married”.

I still wasn’t disappointed. In the Inbox was a message from MH1. It read:

“My dear, I am very sorry for what I did yesterday. You will not run mad with thinking, in Jesus name…” 

(Honestly, it took all my effort not to die laughing at this point. So people still wrote this kind of crap? Miss Tits was watching my face intently and laughter would give away my ruse of playing a game on her phone. Let me kindly reproduce the said text without interruption this time)

“My dear, I am very sorry for what I did yesterday. You will not run mad with thinking, in Jesus name. Here are some PINs for loading your phone: X and Y (two N200 PINs for MTN) and Z - a N500 voucher for Glo. Later when you are less busy in the evening, come and pay in this N5000 into your account.” 

Hmmm…. Little wonder! So Mr. Tunde was paying N5900 just to suck nipples. I shook my head and sighed and Miss Tits must have interpreted the gesture to mean “Game Over” on her phone. It was “Game Over” definitely for me on her case.

As far as I was concerned, I now was sure of two things:

One, Mr. Tunde ought to be shot for his stupid choice of words. What did the dumb ass mean by “come and pay this N5000 into your account” like as he was funding her educational grant or something?

And two: I certainly wasn’t going to toe his line and drop 5.9 K, nipples or no nipples!

So the stupid guy had most likely been dropping close to six big ones just for a round of lactation and probably a little touch-touch? For what?!!

I shook my head and looked at Miss Tits sitting opposite me. Her nipples stared back at me.

Damn! Life was unfair!

Foreword: Rantings of the “wrongfully” employed

One of the very first newspaper articles I read about the blogging phenomenon concerned a blogger who was fired for posting office matters online. Obviously he had no idea that the office was sacred. I too hold no such notions... After all, This Is Not The Office.

This is a place where nothing is sacred and everything is scary. This is SLAVE Inc. Of course that isn’t its real name but all the attributes of the nickname fit the situation. My Boss, whom you’ll meet later in this post by the way, is the Chief Slave Driver while I’m the Major Slave.

Half the time when I am not authoring the Media Nemesis blog, I spend the better part of my life stuck in an office where I am tied to a job that entails frenzies of hard work and equal amounts of laziness. I work as a Trainee Biomedical Engineer in our small-time Engineering Company.

Biomedics was not my natural calling (Elect / Elect Engineering which I got a degree in wasn’t either) but as a Trainee I’m still learning the details of this job. But Mister Heem (that’s my Boss) won’t even allow me the dignity of a proper job title. He insists on calling me a “Pupil” Engineer and it even says so on my cardboard (yes, cardboard!) company ID card - which I detest by the way. Most people take a look at the miserable thing and burst out laughing. The more sensible ones keep their guffaws for after I leave.

It is a very small time business – literally a one-man show – though there once were better days. Unfortunately, I did not meet those days. My pay package leans very far away from being called huge and tilts very close, much too close to being very small. It is barely just enough to get on by. But just barely.

A typical day in the Office or out of it sees the Technician, Big Boss and I jumping into his car and zooming off to any hospital near or far that may require our services. We either fix their machines or we try to sell them newer machines or buy off the old ones which we sell to other hospitals which will later call us when those ones break down. It’s a tough cycle. For those machines...and for us.

Life might have been arduous but ordinary if that was all we did but the mix is made richer by the quirks of the Office and the temperaments of its staff, I inclusive and the gossip of the other offices around us. And this is where I get to tell the gritty details...

Let me share with you the goings-on in my Office where life can be as tough as writing a degree exam.

Where, according to the Boss’ sentiments, all the employees are complete idiots some - if not most - of the time.

Where I get to shed weight daily as I acquire an ulcer and an admixture of elation and unhappiness are my daily companions.

Where I say everyday that I’ll leave and I still come back again the next morning...

That is my Office... Where sometimes I lose my initiative and gain stupidity...

As I gather experience...