Tea, Coffee, and Me Ch. 02

I listened with interest to the three manageresses in front of me, for their conversation was indeed intriguing. And most enlightening, too, as to the sorts of things that went on in their high-end fashion and personal services stores - particularly, with regards to their Placemented male pedicurists.

Also revealed to me, was the SPOILT! Boutique representatives' conference agenda for their final afternoon's session.

Apparently, this too would revolve around issues regarding their stores' Placemented male pedicurists.

Each of the thirty SPOILT! Boutique manageresses would stand up, taking their turn to raise their points of discussion regarding and in response to the most popular of suggestions, recommendations, and requests put forward by their female customers of discernment.

Eavesdropping, I learned that the left-shoulder availing manageress, wearing the lilac T-shirt and, from who's slightly upwards sloping sole perched upon 'her' shoulder, I saw was wearing tan tights, was Dianne, and she ran the SPOILT! Boutique, in Manchester.

While it emerged that the right-shoulder footrest availing manageress, wearing the amber T-shirt and, from who's also slightly upwards sloping sole perched upon 'her' shoulder, I saw was barefoot, was Felicity, who ran Newcastle's SPOILT! Boutique.

I gleaned this tan tights/barefoot information during Miss Martina Morris's quick, unassisted standing-foot changeover.

Which was when I saw, too, that both of the shoulder-footrest availing manageresses wore flats, which, through the resultant lack of elevation as described by Miss Morris, accounted for their slightly upwards sloping soles perched upon 'their' shoulder, duly corroborating her sound reasoning and vindicating my idle speculation.

I had the decided sense that Miss Martina Morris too now was going to seriously overrun, to the diminution of her remaining twenty-eight manageress colleagues, her two-minute time allowance with their emergency replacement 'little something extra'. Selfishly far exceeding her own, fair and equal share, to the unfair and unequal reducement of theirs.

I had the decided sense, too, that none of the other coffee-breaking SPOILT! Boutique manageresses would step forward and complain; would not pull the local agent up, as to her self-centred hogging of their facial footrest.

Would not air their resentment.

Would not make a fuss.

Would keep the disappointments of their denied pleasures, their thwarted anticipations, their unrealised refreshments-break treat, to themselves.

Would not address their Head of Conference's selected replacement, Miss Martina Morris, as to her selfish excesses at this, their favourite and most coveted of footrest positions, while the luckier of them made do with availing themselves of my relatively ungratifying shoulders, back, and sides.

But, what in the blazes' business was it of mine?

I was just their refreshments-break foot furniture.

Capable of accommodating up to seven.

And anyway - what of, all of that?

When with two SPOILT! Boutique manageresses' invasive and explorative bare soles on 'their' side of my back, and two manageresses' nyloned soles foot-resting on 'their' sides; scrunching their toes absentmindedly on the convenient protuberances of my hips as they drank their coffee and chatted - it was all I could do not to giggle idiotically.

Not to giggle idiotically, in the throes of such undreamed-of sensual pleasure, into the pale-complexioned left bare sole of the facial-footrest availing conference organiser and manageress of Brighton's SPOILT! Boutique.

*

It was not 10:30, as scheduled, but almost eleven o'clock when the Head of Conference, Miss Hazel Connaught-Cavendish, announced that she and her twenty-nine high-end fashion store manageress colleagues would now return to their conference suite.

I returned to the side of my employer Mrs Hilary Harper, at the four white tableclothed pushed-together serving tables where she and her two assistants Amanda and Zoe were now clearing them for resetting for the SPOILT! Boutique manageresses' 15:00 - 15:30 refreshments break.

"I am extremely pleased with you, David," Mrs Harper told me. "You conducted yourself exactly how I would expect: with self-initiative. Your off-your-own-bat facilitations, in particular, were highly pleasing to watch. Keep that up, this afternoon, and Miss Hazel Connaught-Cavendish will be sure to pass on some truly marvellous references and recommendations throughout her circle of business colleagues and hopefully to her wider orbit of associates."

"Didn't I say he'd be fine, Mrs Harper?" questioned Amanda. "That, at last, we'd found our missing team player?"

"You did indeed, Amanda. And though of course as yet it is still very early days and I'd hate to get my hopes up for nothing, I think we've all just witnessed enough evidence to suggest that you have been proved correct."

Zoe didn't say anything; she let her smile speak for her.

All business again, Mrs Harper turned to me and said," But our busy day has just started. So now go and get our vacuum cleaner, David. And take it for a walk around the Pavilion Lounge - before you report to the office of the hotel manageress, Miss Honeywell."

Tea, Coffee, and Me continues (and concludes) in Ch. 3.