O’Sullivan was always annoyed when he had to deal with John C. If John C wasn’t one of the most sought after bank security experts in all of Ireland, he would have dismissed him a long time ago.
“When you wouldn’t answer your phone, John C, I called one of your running lads who told me you were with him at the pub knocking back marginal beer with disappointing whiskey because you were probably too far gone to drink them separately. Or worse, perhaps you think you’re a Texan. If you’re not completely arseholed can you get down here, now!?”
John C grinned as he said, “Yes, sir, I can do that. I should be there in twelve minutes, if I stop to pay before leaving. But since you are most anxious to have me there, I will have the weasel you called pick up the tab and be there in eight minutes.
“Ordinarily, I could make it in six minutes, but I would like to empty my bladder before our meeting. I trust you will permit this small luxury. If not, I shall feel obliged to use the elevator on the way up again. Do you know if they have installed toilet paper in the elevator, per my previous request?”
“Fine! We’ll wait while you go potty, John C! We’ll be waiting in the main meeting room when you are finished.”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish