Jessica's Change Management Ch. 20

That was why it was an easy decision for our boss to make. Of course, he went with Shelly's plan and chose her exercise for the workshop. Oh shoot! With that, Blondie had just taken the lead again. What is more, she had even geared up some workshop materials. Bragging like a showoff, she handed me a card inscribed with a multitude of different words that were arranged in a 5x5 grid. Looking at the card, I was really confused, so much so that I almost missed out on Shelly's explanation.

"You see sir, I wanted to prepare something special. Not some run-off-the-mill exercise like the typical routine stuff you get from Miss Bimbo." She added a well-placed dig.

"Let me present to you: the bimbo bingo!" She announced, acting like a show host.

So that was what those cards were all about. They were supposed to be special bingo cards. On second look, it actually made a lot of sense 'cause there were buzzwords, or more like sales phrases, inscribed in the grid. So creative! So ridiculous!

"It's really simple, so simple that Missy can play it too." Shelly continued her explanations. "Every row is linked with a specific action."

"Better listen up, Missy! This is important" She kept taunting me. "A word from the first row gets said 'n you gotta touch your boobs. Somebody says a word from the second row, you gotta bend over with legs straight." She went right down to the details. "You hear a phrase from the third row, you gotta drop something down your cleavage."

"A word from the fourth row 'n you gotta cross-uncross your legs. The fifth row, you gotta suck on a pen." Blondie elaborated. "You finish a row, column, or diagonal, 'n you win. That's when you gotta stand up 'n sing the Barbie song."

Oh woah! That was a lot of information! Fortunately, I was currently in my woken state 'cause Shelly's game was elaborate as fudge! The fallout was also huge as fudge. It wasn't that much of a single exercise but rather a game that lasted the whole duration of the workshop. As a result, us bimbos had to be alert at all times. We had to be aware of our bingo cards the entire time. We had to perform slutty acts while assisting our boss and servicing the sales dudes. On top of that, we had to do the most embarrassing act ever when scoring the win. So disgraceful! So absurd!

"However, there's a little tweak to the usual bingo setting to make it more exciting." Shelly wasn't done yet. "We got the same bingo cards. So whoever performs the matching action first, scores the point."

Oh wow! That was a lot to keep in mind. Truth be told, I loathed Shelly's game from the outset. Just as much, Ortega loved it. I had never seen him that positive about whatsoever. He even said a few words in praise of Blondie's creativity and preparation. Gasp! So awesome... not!

Anyhow, there was no time to debate 'cause Wilson was just about finishing his introduction. That was why Ortega gave us bimbos a final stern reminder that we had to be careful and keep up appearances. We were supposed to perform the slutty bimbo bingo but weren't allowed to be too obvious about it. It sounded totally hollow and hypocritical. I mean, the company men were clued-in anyways, and the salesmen probably suspected a thing or two. Still, it was important for leadership to be able to deny any kinda allegations and knowledge. Oh well!

But back to the workshop. Like all standard seminars, the next step was a presentation by the invited speaker. In this case, that was Ortega. While the smug Latino gave his speech and showed his slides, us ass-istants basically stood on the sidelines. You can take that literally. Why? Cause Anderson assigned Miss Bimbo to stand on the left side of the room where the table with beverages was located whereas Miss Trophy was instructed to stand on the right side where the table with snacks was placed.

Of course, the sales reps made total use of their privilege. Quelle surprise! I mean, this was supposed to be a reward for their hard work, right? They were offered the chance to have two hot bimbos taking care of their needs with the wave of a hand. So everything that happened was bound to happen. While our boss was talking about argumentation strategies and communication tricks and boring stuff like that, the sales dudes were busy having us serve drinks and snacks and leering at our curves.

Oh Jeez! Those sales dudes really knew how to keep a girl, I mean a hostess, busy. As a result, I quickly lost concentration and my legs slipped through the freshly cut slit more often than not. I was also getting footsore, especially in my high-heeled golden ankle boots. Then and there, I was glad that I didn't have a full-time job as a hooters girl or breastaurant waitress or even stripper. Although... I totally might be sooner than later, what with me on the verge of losing my job. Gasp!

Oh, before I forgot it, I had to make sure to keep my bingo card handy. After all, Consultant-me was well aware that there was no chance to memorize all those buzzwords. The important question, however, was where I could keep the card without it being too eye-catching?

Too bad, Bimbo-me had already tottered off on impulse and started serving the first coffee. Totally bad, 'cause I noticed Shelly stopping in her tracks before I even had a chance to come up with any kinda idea. Oh no! Oh shoot! Of course, she knew all the phrases. Of course, she had an advantage. So unfair! Such foul play!

The young secretary turned towards Ortega as though she was looking at the presentation. As if! I saw her lifting her right arm and putting her hand on her right fake bolt-on fleshcan, giving it an ultrashort squeeze. Clever, sorta. The way Blondie had positioned herself, the sales dudes could only see her back. That left the smug exec as the only one to watch her bimbo move from the front although the sales reps got a perfect view at her exposed back through the shredded blouse. No matter what, the result was just as bad.

Miss Trophy 1 -- Miss Bimbo 0

Frantically, I started looking for an idea. I couldn't miss the next buzzword. All the while, the solution was staring me in the face, like literally. Oh damn, that word again! After folding the bingo card in the middle, I pulled out my compact handbag mirror and flipped it open. Then I placed the piece of paper on the mirror glass in a way that the grid basically stared at me. That idea had hit me not a moment too soon.

"Indeed, I am going to present relevant findings from current research. Yet, I am going to focus on best practice examples, I have to say." Ortega presented the next slide when Shelly turned her attention back to the sales dudes.

Uh-oh! Something rang a bell. As I still had my handbag mirror in my hand, I quickly looked it up. There it was, center left box, second row: 'best practice'. Oh boy! This was my chance to pull off a bimbo move. Oh gulp! I couldn't waste precious time on my sense of shame now.

You remember which move? Me neither. So, no biggie! That was why I had scribbled the bimbo moves at the end of each row. This one sounded easy, sorta. I had to drop something into my cleavage. That shouldn't be much of a problem, what with my deep neckline. However, it was easier said than done 'cause appearance.

Shelly had managed the bimbo move without alerting the sales dudes' attention. Somehow, I had to pull that off, too. But how? I couldn't just ask a sales rep to hand me his pen and push it between my boobies, could I? Never ever! I had to be canny now. I had to be quick about it too 'cause that weasel dude was already waving me over.

In equal measure, I felt reluctance and panic rising up inside of me. Consultant-me screamed to avoid rushing headlong into disaster whereas Bimbo-me warned me not to let this chance slide. Right now, acting without thinking would have been so preferable. Yet, I couldn't do it.

I had to force every move and every step. My gaze roamed over the table until a small dispenser box hit my eye. That could work. Gathering all my willpower, I suppressed my inner resistance and grabbed the dispenser filled with artificial sweeteners. Lifting it up, I held it right above the center of my neckline.

It was enough to give me the shivers. I still forced myself to push the button and let a small, white pill drop out. The moment, it hit the spot right in the canyon between my big, round fleshorbs made my skin crawl. Could you believe it? I was sweetening titties while sweating blood. If I had been in bimbo mode, I would have giggled about the hilarity. In my woken state, however, I could only whimper in shame.

Anyhow, the idea had been good. The execution, however, wasn't so great. Why? Cause my hostess uniform was too tight, so much so that my juicy juggs got firmly pressed against one another. That was why the pill didn't slip down the flesh canyon and disappeared. Instead, it sat there on top of my cleavage. Every second the pill remained there, the goosebumps doubled. Oh jeez!

Where was my inner bimbo when I needed it? No matter how much I hated to admit it, that silly part of me would have come in handy right now. What would Bimbo-me do? Oh, well! Jiggle and shake, of course. I didn't want to do it, but I had no other choice. Following my bimbo logic, I started moving my chest to make my big, ole funbags quake and wobble.

Shake, shake, shake! Shake your boobies!

Oh shoddy! In my panic, I had totally forgotten to follow Shelly's example and turn towards the presentation. With the pill slipping down my flesh canyon, I sheepishly looked across the room. Weasel was still waving at me. He was also looking at me. Oh no! He had seen my tits jiggle and shake in their confines. All the same, I had still scored.

Miss Trophy 1 -- Miss Bimbo 1

Despite the successful score, my cheeks flushed scarlet. The utter embarrassment turned me into a pillar of salt. I desperately wanted to giggle and smile it away. No matter how hard I tried, though, I couldn't bring myself to flash a trademark fake smile. Once again, my inner bimbo failed me when I needed it. Damn!

Eventually, I managed to walk over to the slimey dude. He looked quite displeased, though, 'cause it took way too long. I tried to make up for it by bringing him an additional snack, but it seemed as if he would have preferred something more slutty. Maybe, a leg slip! Probably, a nip slip! Too bad, I was still too creeped out to do anything bimboy. Gulp!

Anyhow, nothing really exciting happened for the next couple of slides. Ortega droned on and on while us ass-istants served drinks and snacks. Gosh! These sales reps were so much more focused on feasting than listening. Surprisingly, though, no typical buzzwords were said.

That happened when I was just handing meticulous dude a fresh drink. Ortega said something about a paradigm shift or the like. What a worn out, trite phrase! What a typical buzzword! I almost dropped the cup to pull out my handbag mirror and check. I was totally on edge! But then I noticed Shelly bending over while standing next to Mr. Squid.

The fudge! Blondie was pulling off the bimbo move! She had been quicker 'cause I had been occupied with the damned hostess service. Get your priorities straight, girl! The way the secretary positioned her body, though, her butt faced the presentation. As a result, our boss was treated to a perfect look at her arched booty while squid dude had a chance to leer at her fake titties. However, he so didn't dare doing so, looking anywhere instead.

What a loser! Bimbo-me silently mocked him. What a professional! Consultant-me silently praised him.

More importantly, though, what a scam! I mean, Shelly was giving daddy the bestest view even though he wasn't the guest of honor. In a way, Blondie was cheating. After all, this was supposed to be a reward workshop, and watching us ass-istants flash our goods was supposed to be the reward. Either way, the result was undisputable.

Miss Trophy 2 -- Miss Bimbo 1

I was highly indignant 'cause her behavior was giving our profession a bad name. On second look, that was totally silly 'cause there was no such profession as an office bimbo. Still, my blood was up 'cause I knew I could easily do a better job. I could easily be a better hostess. Oh damn! Now, that Consultant-me was in the driver's seat, my competitive streak reared its head. It made me feel like I needed to be the best at whatever. In an absurd twist, it made me yearn to be the better ass-istant. I just needed a chance to prove it. I really wanted a chance to prove it. The irony!

"Always remember, closing the sale is what matters. That is the bottom line indeed." Ortega was about to finish his presentation.

Here we go! I didn't have to look at my bingo card to know what was in store for me. I had seen the phrase 'bottom line' in the box right beneath 'best practice' when I had last looked at the grid. This time, I could react quicker than Blondie. Now, it was my time to bend over.

Despite my competitiveness, the embarrassment from the previous bimbo move was still strong. I was totally of two minds, like literally this time. Mortal shame and competitive zeal were goading each other, which was extremely unfavorably for me. Why? Cause it made me feel pressured into performing the act while it also made me feel more shamefaced than ever.

On the plus side, I already had experience with the move 'cause project pitch. Remember? The bimbo move had worked back then. It would work this time, too. That was the decisive selling point that got me going. I know, I know, the phrase 'selling point' deserved its own bimbo move. That irony wasn't lost on me.

Anyhow, I repeated the procedure from the project pitch by grabbing a silver spoon from the beverage table. Turning around, I feigned some kinda mishap, which wasn't really difficult 'cause goddamned porn claws. The spoon landed on the ground as intended, which attracted the attention of several salesmen. Brazing myself, I was getting ready to pick the spoon off the ground.

Just then Mr. Meticulous, who was sitting closest to me, swooped in. Getting off his chair, he was quick to pick up the spoon and hand it back to me. Oh woah! That really caught me off guard. More than befuddled, I had no option but to thank that petty-minded pedant. He had totally gotten the drop on me. He had totally rained on my parade. What a stickler! What a fusspot!

Way worse, though, from the corner of my eye, I saw Shelly moving. She was bending down pretending to fumble around with her red strappy platform heels. Once again, she wasn't treating the sales dudes to a full view of her booty 'cause she was standing sideways to the semi-circle of chairs. Another scam! Once again, however, she had landed a score.

Miss Trophy 3 -- Miss Bimbo 1

Jeez! I was visibly furious about the missed chance. However, I was just as furious about Shelly cheating so blatantly. Either way, some commotion distracted me 'cause Ortega had finished his presentation and everybody was moving to take a short smoke break.

With the smoke break giving us bimbos a short rest, it was time to control the intermediate results. I had only checked a single box, 'cause I had dropped a thingie down my cleavage. Not awesome! What about Shelly, though? She had bent over two times, so she had checked two boxes in the same row. She had also touched her boob. Not awesome at all! Blondie was leading by two boxes. Shoot!

After the smoke break, the second part of the workshop started. It was a fish bowl conversation, which was another standard seminar method. Only, there wasn't anything standard about this seminar. Oh, you want to know the details of the fish bowl session? Basically, it was a Q&A session. Wilson, Anderson, and Ortega were seated in front of the participants like sitting on a stage. The three men were presented as experts in all sales stuff ever. Next to them was a free chair left for the moderator. The sales dudes had the chance to write questions on presentation cards and throw them into a big glass bowl.

There was a catch, however, and that was the moderating role. After all questions had been gathered, it was the ass-istants' job to draw a card from the bowl, sit on the free chair, and introduce the question to the experts. Of course, us ass-istants had to alternately take on the moderating role question by question. Easy peasy, right? As if! Cause bingo!

It was my job to start the fish bowl conversation. So I tottered up to the stage and pulled a presentation card from the bowl. While I walked up there, Blondie remained standing at the buffet, ready to serve another snack or whatever to whoever.

The task was supposed to be really simple. Draw a card and read it out aloud. I wasn't supposed to divert attention from the experts. Was it working out? Not really. Even though it wasn't my intention, every sales dude was focused on me bending over and grabbing the card, which wasn't that easy 'cause goddamned fake claws. Jeez! The way I had deliberately converted myself into a helpless, ditzy doll was so beyond disgraceful.

"Here we go, everybody!" I announced, trying hard to avoid my trademark bimbo babble.

"What's your potency... I mean, potential market for our new products." I stumbled out of the gates.

Oh darn! For a moment, I had confused potential and potency. How stupid can you be! Nobody had noticed it, right? As if! The looks exchanged by Ortega and Wilson said more than a thousand words. It felt as bad as it sounded dumb. More importantly though, I saw Shelly looking around the room while standing at the buffet. Turning around, she swiftly bent over the table, grabbing a cup and filling it with coffee.

No matter how much she tried to hide it, I instantly knew what she was up to. She was copying me. The cheat! It was a bimbo move! The bitch! I saw the pleated mini skirt dangerously rising up when she kept her legs straight while bending over. 'Potential market' must have been a buzzword and Blondie had made another score.

Miss Trophy 4 -- Miss Bimbo 1

Oh shoot! Oh fudge! Oh jeez! These were becoming dangerous tides 'cause Shelly had bent over three times now. I felt like a head coach who was under pressure from a losing streak. Worse, though, I hadn't even noticed the phrase. Shelly was so quick and so ruthless. Oh damn! The secretary had just completed the third box in a row. She was getting close to winning the bingo race. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let that happen. I needed to win the out-please-ment center and put that blonde bitch in her place.

How could I influence the game, though? With Consultant-me in the driver's seat, I was at a disadvantage when it came to the bimbo moves. However, I could easily benefit from it, 'cause I was a smart, sophisticated college grad who could play the game like a fiddle. I wasn't helpless or out of depth. As if!

"Don't you wanna share my assets, I mean your asset knowledge 'bout optimization, gentlemen?" I weighed in on the debate. "I'm open for business, I mean open for all business possibilities."

What was I doing here? Actually, I was fishing for some buzzwords, 'cause I remembered phrases like 'innovation' or 'cutting edge' from the grid. The more I made them talk, the higher the chance of them saying one of those phrases. Unfortunately, though, Bimbo-me kinda derailed my elaborate plan, making me inadvertently stumble into sex phrases.

"To sum it up, we need to monetize our assets more effectively." Wilson closed the discussion.

Oh dang! It was time for the next question. But wait! He had said something about monetizing, right? That was the word I had been looking for. It was so cringeworthy that it had stuck in my memory. I even remembered that it was in the third row, so I had to drop something into my cleavage. Oh bang! Shelly hadn't noticed the phrase yet. This was my chance! But wait again! I was sitting right on stage! I was sitting in the spotlight! There was no way to do this bimbo move inconspicuously. Making matters worse, I didn't have anything on me except for the moderation card. What was I supposed to do?