Red Equity (2/5)
This is the second installment of an ongoing series! If you're interested in starting at the beginning you can read it here.
Bill
Bill Detridge was an insurance man. An interesting man with a boring job, Bill compensated with outbursts of personality. A personality rooted in the concepts of a social prescription, Christianity (pseudo-agnosticism), and the American dream. Bill believed a man was a man and a woman was a woman. This meant he would protect Sophie and Sophie would indulge him. So when his wife asked to see Jack Hill for a meeting, he said yes. He didn’t care what people would think of his wife meeting someone like Jack Hill. They would be too occupied with the thoughts of her home and body: his indulgences.
He protected them both, he was the man. A heavy burden. In the beige little office where he worked the burden waxed and waned. Letwick’s Insurance Company was a small insurance outfit that Bill worked in. The tiny building only had one floor, and it could hardly contain the three offices and waiting room behind the front door. Sardines had more freedom than Bill did at his own office. Because of this, at points when he needed release, his personality would burst at any hint of opportunity.
“Charlie!” Bill cried at the sight of the man. Leaving his office door open Bill had often called upon Charlie and Andrew, his office neighbors, whenever one or the other would pass by. Charlie was a smaller man than Bill, but was paid more. As the office accountant he was a step higher than Bill. “Where you headed?”
“Supply closet.” Charlie responded.
“Anything new?”
“Same as always, Bill. Just getting through the day.”
“Did you hear the one about the Jew and the Pollock?” Charlie was Polish and had heard the joke from Bill before.
“Yep. Remember the other day when you-“ Bill had burst into laughter slamming his little desk.
“That’s right, that’s right! ‘That’s the only Polish sausage I’ve ever had!’ That kills me.” With another fit of laughter Bill had noticed the waving interest of the already disinterested Charlie. “Sophie is coming around for lunch. Wanna join us?”
“I brought a sandwich.” Charlie replied as he passed.
“Alright then. I’ll see you later, buddy.” Charlie never responded. Bill really wanted to tell that joke. Or at least have lunch with someone he hoped would enjoy it. A tedious hour rolled on and when Sophie finally arrived Bill was fit to burst.
They hugged and kissed, the whole routine. Afterwards Bill introduced her to two of the offices. He had a joke for each office. “My ball and chain” and “The woman with my ring.” It was all so topical and well received, he had been rehearsing them in his head. Rolling on the high of the introduction Bill moved his wife out for something to eat. Pressing Sophie onward whenever she wanted to stop or stare at the brilliant city.
The city didn't sing to Bill the way it did with Sophie. Where she heard the exuberant shalalala of somewhere new, he heard the sad croon of the city. San Francisco was messy. They said it was beautiful, but he knew it was messy. The sweaty men outside always in their overalls. Their swarthy faces pinched so disturbingly while smoking their cheap little cigarettes. And the women, clicked and clacked about with their heels going God knows where every morning and night. The kids were rude and wild as they left school, truant or otherwise. Cops never seemed to be doing the right things, the same was doubly true for the street sweepers. And the creeps always surprised- onetime Bill left work and saw a clown changing its clothes in an alley. An alley! Everybody was up to no good as far as Bill was concerned. Except for the negroes. If he ever complained about the city, he would leave a remark of addendum just for them. Negores never seemed to bother Bill, he always saw where they were going. And while he never knew where they were headed he knew he could understand where they were going had he ever had the interest to look into it- and for Bill that was the same as knowing.
The restaurant the two visited was an actual restaurant. Sophie was worried she’d be taken to a diner or café. To her luck Bill had found The Mint, an incongruously green colored restaurant with a full bar, just the day before filled with what looked like happy people. He had the eggplant bolognese with a Coke, she the lasagna with vodka seltzer.
“I’m excited. I get to be excited.” Sophie defended.
“Vodka though?”
“With seltzer, it’s only one, relax.” The two casually dueled in this manner until he was silenced with a strategically raised eyebrow, a sexualizing tactic Sophie had seen in a movie. And from there she continued to subtly control the conversion for the entire meal.
“How was your meeting?”
“Good…”
“What did you talk about?” He asked
“He- He offered me a job.” He ordered another Coke.
“As what?”
“His secretary.” The two paused. She was unsure of the response and he seemed confused by it.
“His secretary?”
“Yes.” Again silence.
“Do you think you could do it?” He chuckled.
“Yes. Yes I do. Why wouldn’t I”
“Well you seem so busy at home. I didn’t think you could handle the pressures of an office.” She downed the entirety of her drink.
“You don’t think I could handle it? Is it really so impossible to believe that I could earn XX dollars a day?”
“XX? That’s pretty good for a secretary.”
“And I wouldn’t have to ask you for money anymore. Or more importantly we could save up for something nice.”
“If you want something I can buy it.” She changed tactics.
“We could buy that new Continental you were looking at. The one, what’s his name? Charlie? The one Charlie had.” Charlie did have a new car. And with a new one Bill thought he might be able to have more. Feel more. Be more than Charlie, that little man. He nodded at his wife smiling.
“You’re a smart girl. You know that?” She wouldn’t be providing, just earning enough to useful. It felt right that she was giving to him. Her work would be just another one of his indulgences. After all, a man was a man and a woman was a woman.
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