I don’t like him. He struts through the club like he owns everything. His entire personality oozes pompous.
There are many reasons to join the intelligence services. You might do it for your country. You might do it as a matter of knowing you are protecting your family and loved ones. You may feel it’s your duty after coming up though the ranks in the Marines. It is possible to join just to for the fun of being a spy. I didn’t know there could be a reason so far fetched that it would bother me. I think it’s wrong to to be a spy because of your love of deceit. That is Husten Brockings.
That strutting slime just passed as I was taking the stole from my wife’s shoulders. She smiled far too nicely at Brockings and then turned and winked at me. I know that smile from many intimate moments with her and it made me uncomfortable. AND, she topped it off with a wink to me! Has she been swooned by this…this wretched pile of a man
Brockings has be married three times and has a way with women that turns the stomach of most members I’ve talked too. Aside from his ability to avoid alimony and child support by using his high powered connections, it’s his working his way though many of the single and married women of the club that disturbs us.
Who names their child Husten anyway? What man wears shoes that click when he walks that are distinguishable above all the ladies in the club? Why does he need to be noticed, “I am Brockings and I am walking here!”
Geesh!
Being this obsessed over the wad bothers me more that the actual person. That in turn makes his presence all the more unpleasant.
Mary and I have been members of the club for 25 years, since we were newly webs. At that time we were the youngest ever accepted into this fine establishment. It’s as much a place to relax as it is an extension of my professional life and I take it seriously. I’ve served on many committees and just recently headed the finances committee. Now Brockings is about to head things up while I return to the general ranks of the finance committee. I am not looking forward to this. It will be delicate work to disguise my despise.
The evening ended uneventfully for Mary and me. There was something in that cheese that hung on my tongue and no amount of port could wash it off. I needed relief. I pulled the car into gas station and went into the convenience store for something, anything to rid my tongue of the film.
A shocking fireball rolling around my mouth was doing the trick!
Pulling into the lot as we drove away was Brockings. Needing a different kind of relief now, I let it slip, “Mary, the way you smile at Brockings gives me the creeps. I have to know what you see in him.”
“Really, dear?! Are you missing the joke?! I know he’s influential and I smile only to be polite. I can’t stand that douche!”