Clarence has complete “don’t fuck with” status with everyone at work, including the IT pukes and the Suits. Nobody really understands what he does for the company, but that really doesn’t matter. People’s lives are dramatically altered once they fuck with him. I remember back in the heat wave of ’95, I saw him standing in an alley behind Twin Anchors, drunk as hell and wearing a Led Zeppelin – Black Dog tee shirt. He was staring at someone’s window, like he was ready to do something that would make the morning newscasts. I kept walking.
About the same time, one of the young bucks, fresh out of U of C, starts going around saying that Clarence “Looks like a pervert. Probably likes to hang out around the park and watch the kiddies.” Like many other grads out in the real world after years of beer bongs, boinking cheerleaders and saving up their laundry for mommy to do, this guy thought he was still the shit and he thought he establishing his dominance when he said it.
Every morning Clarence would slowly walk by the kid’s cubicle and give him the look, which was a cross between The Son of Sam and a drunk Art Donovan. However, this kid wasn’t as smart as his MBA. He got chirpy every morning when Clarence walked by, unknowingly adding to the depth of his upcoming demise. Now everyone who had been with the company for more than a year knew to avoid this kid like the plague. We all knew that he had just sealed his fate and we didn’t want to be collateral damage. We didn’t warn him, we didn’t invite him to meetings and we certainly didn’t want to be seen with him outside of work.
The kid was good looking. I’ll give him that. He had the Tom Brady look, before Tom Brady had the look and he had a solid history with the ladies. In fact, had been trying very hard to hook up with the daughter of one of our SVP’s. Most guys would avoid those women. Not this guy. He saw it as a great political move, which it was. By October, the kid was indeed dating the princess (she also worked at the company in an administrative role) and he was on the fast track.
Side note: The princess was your basic spoiled rich girl, who spent most of her day gossiping, at the nail salon or planning the next Martini Monday with other like-minded broads.
Now, there’s basically three things most men would never pass up:
1. Free Beer
2. Free Burrito’s
3. Free Pootain
What Clarence did was simply genius. He had let the kid do his thing for a couple of months, while he worked behind the curtain. Clarence gathered information, such as, where the kid lived, where he partied on Thursday nights, his route to work, his taste in booze, his cable package, where he bought his groceries, his taste in women, yada, yada. Soon enough he had a profile on this guy that would have made J. Edgar Hoover cream his panties.
To make a long story short, he hired a prostitute to ride the same Brown Line car as the kid a few times to perk his interest. Then he had her show up at the kids favorite Thursday night bar, wearing a low-cut outfit and fuck-me pumps. Blah, blah, blah, they end up at his place that night and she gives him the Clap. But the dumbass doesn’t know it until after he’s fucked his golden ticket’s daughter twenty more times over the next month. The next thing you know, she’s running to Daddy telling him the stud marked her for life.
What’s funny about this, is that Clarence started clapping when he walked by the stud’s cubicle every morning about three weeks before the one night stand. So, now the stud probably cringes every time he hears people clapping. Oh, he worked at the office for maybe two more hours before the IT pukes “found” jailbait porn on his computer.