Mr. Booth called me a little while ago to tell me that he was pressed for time and ask that I “throw something up on that blog” about men’s fashion in Palm Beach. He said that he was late for work, although he had always led me to believe that he was independently wealthy. Apparently not.
I’m a bit uncomfortable with the clipping that you’re about to see, so I thought it would be best to provide you with a transcript of our telephone conversation. If you end up feeling offended, it’s Mr. Booth’s fault, and here’s why:
Oliver Booth (OB): “Hello? I would like to speak with Mrs. Jenks, please. It’s Oliver Booth calling.”
Mrs. Jenks (MJ): “Yes, Mr. Booth, this is Mrs. Jenks. How may I help you?”
OB: “Ah, yes, well, you see, Mrs. Jenks, I’m in a bit of a bind. I’m running late for work and I just realized that I’m obligated to contribute a posting to The Rich Life today.”
MJ: “Yes, Mr. Booth, and how can I help you? If it’s a technical question, I can assure that that Mr. Konopczynski would be much more helpful than myself.”
OB: “No, no, it’s not a technical problem at all, it’s more of a logistical problem. You see, I’ve been told that if I’m late for work one more time … anyway, never mind about that, I was just wondering if you might be able to throw something up on that blog for me today? Just this once? It would be very kind of you and I would certainly be in your debt.”
MJ: “But Mr. Booth, that’s not really my role here. I’m sure Mr. Flagg would not consider me to be a suitable contributor.”
OB: “But you wouldn’t need to do very much at all, Mrs. Jenks. In fact, the topic for today’s posting comes from Mr. Flagg himself, just a little piece on men’s fashion in Palm Beach.”
MJ: “But what do I know about men’s fashion? I spend all of my time at Town Hall.”
OB: “And how do the men at Town Hall dress, Mrs. Jenks?”
MJ: “Well, they’re usually here to attend a government meeting, so they all dress alike. You know, a blue blazer, white slacks, and loafers with no socks.”
OB: “Exactly! You see, you’re nearly finished already! Just write down that description, title it ‘Men’s fashion in Palm Beach,’ and send it along to Mr. Konopczynski for posting. It couldn’t be simpler.”
MJ: “But don’t I need some type of source material, Mr. Booth? I mean, I’m just a secretary, I don’t have any credibility as a fashion commentator.”
OB: “Look, Mrs. Jenks, why don’t you just stop by your hairdresser and take a look at some of the back issues of GQ and Men’s Vogue. I’m sure you’ll find something worthwhile that you’ll be able to include.”
MJ: “Mr. Booth, I get my hair done by Bonnie at the Hair Cuttery on Dixie Highway, and the only magazines that they have are Cooking With Paula Deen and Guns & Ammo.”
OB: “Alright, alright, hold on.” (At this point Mr. Booth stepped away from the phone. I heard rustling and then crashing noises, followed by loud cursing, before he returned.) “Mrs. Jenks, since it seems that I must do everything myself, I will drop off a clipping that I’ve located in an old issue of Details magazine. Please post it with my byline and my duties will be fulfilled. Will that be satisfactory?”
MJ: “Yes, Mr. Booth, thank you. That would be fine.”
We’ll, I thought that would be fine until I saw the clipping. At my request, Mr. Konopczynski has used his technical skills to shrink it to make it more difficult to read. If you would still like to view the clipping in all of its offensive glory, just click on the image.
Mrs. Jenks
A fashionably dressed Palm Beach gentleman
