I'll Be Here All Week
By Pete Schulte
“Did you just call me Lefty?”
“Yeah, so what,” said Jake. “I called you Lefty. That‘s your name, right?”
“My name is Eddie. I’ve been sitting next to you for eight months and you don’t even know my name. Do I do something funny with my left hand? Why is it that you called me Lefty?”
“I don’t know,” said Jake. “I thought it was Lefty, you tell me it’s Eddie, so we’re okay, okay?”
“Yeah, you just get to know me better,” muttered Eddie.
“I didn’t mean for you to be sore, Eddie. I swear I didn’t.”
Jake took a quick swig of his coffee. “Listen, Eddie, to make it up to you, let me tell you about this new doll I been seeing.”
Eddie pricked up his ears. “Do tell. I don’t mind hearing about that.”
“Do you know Deb from the third floor, the one with the big cans?”
“You mean Deb from Accounting?” asked Eddie.
“Yeah, Deb from Accounting. You know her?”
“Deb from Accounting…is my wife, Jake. She’s my wife!”
“Now wait a minute here,” said Jake. “Did I say Deb from Accounting? Is that what I said? Because that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t with Deb from Accounting at all, I was really with Bev from Payroll, the one with the long stems, the black stockings.”
“You mean Bev from the fourth floor?” said Eddie.
“You know those legs, right Eddie?”
“I certainly do, Jake, because they belong to my sister. My sister, Jake!”
“Jeez, I’m sorry, Eddie. I just can’t make it right with you. I’m just glad I didn’t mention Gloria from the cafeteria.”
“My mother?”
After bastardizing Eddie’s name and sleeping with Eddie’s wife, his sister, and his mother, what Jake needed was a fresh start. Eddie froze him out and there was nothing he could do but transfer to another department. Later that afternoon he found himself in the office of Mr. Peter Potter, the head honcho of the outfit, the guy who decides things. Potter kept him waiting, so he shot the bull with Millie Dingle, Potter’s receptionist.
“Listen, Jake,” said Millie, “with Potter you got to play it straight. That old so and so hasn’t cracked a smile in years. He eats guys like you for lunch.”
“C’mon Millie, you know I’m not here to crack wise. I’ll play nice with Potter, you’ll see.”
“Just be a stone face, Jake. Don’t let him lay a glove on you.”
Left alone with Potter now, Jake did his best to mirror the old man’s expression, or lack thereof. Potter, his head buried in Jake’s file, finally looked up and scowled. “Jake Apple. What kind of name is Jake Apple?”
“Oh, it has nothing to do with the fruit, sir.”
“Did I say that it did? Did I say that? I just want to know what kind of a name is Apple?”
“It’s short for Appledorph, sir. It was shortened somewhere along the line.”
“Appledorph,” said Potter. “Hmm…I think you should’ve probably kept it as it was.”
“Perhaps, sir.”
Potter went back to the file for a few moments before slowly raising his head. There is a project, Apple, that I think could use a man like you. Do you know Allen Moe? He’s the lead on this one.”
“I certainly do, sir. I can work with Moe. He‘s legendary.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Moe’s men are Barton Larry and Frank Curly. You think you can fit in, Apple? They’re good men and this is a very important project.”
“Sir, are you pulling my leg?” asked Jake, doing his best to stifle a laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“How dare you!” Potter exclaimed. “The impertinence in this office! I’m offering you a position with one of our top teams and you sit across from me and laugh it up like some yuckster from back east.”
“Sir, I mean no disrespect, but you’re wanting me to work on a team consisting of Moe, Larry, and Curly. The Three Stooges.”
“That’s balderdash, Apple, a mere coincidence. Why I’ve got a another man joining the team as early as tomorrow. Do you know Bob Shemp from Finance?”
“Hey,” said Jake, throwing up his hands, “I’ll be here all week.”
The end.
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