My name is Lisa and I work for a large office supply store as a merchandise buyer. I am one of eight buyers of products in the United States. With the job comes the responsibility of attending trade shows and supplier conventions. All of the national buyers are required to attend the shows and compare notes and exchange ideas.
I have a better working relationship with three of the buyers that I have a lot in common with and the four of us usually end up spending the entire show and convention together along with many meals and drinks together as well.
I am 43 and after two kids and eight years of marriage, my body could look better, but I am happy with my life. I definitely would not be considered a MILD. I am about 165 pounds and still carry some of my weight from my last pregnancy, but overall I am happy, I am 5'9" and in high heels, I can be an intimidating women and my best feature are my 38D breasts that remain very firm with large nipples that grew much more sensitive after breast-feeding my second child.
I arrived at the convention on Tuesday a.m. and we had a buyer's luncheon set-up for Tuesday afternoon with all eight of us to sit in and review monthly and quarterly sales and inventory reports before breaking up for a supplier's reception and dinner on our own.
As normal, after our meeting, I arranged to go to the reception with Brad, Walt and Michael. All three of them were regional buyers like myself with long history with the company and we all shared many common interests such as being married, hating these types of conventions and dislike for many of the people who came to these meetings. We were also all very sarcastic people who liked to poke fun at each other and those around us.
During the reception/happy hour we all mingled and I managed to get hit on several times by other buyers or suppliers who had no idea they had no shot in hell of taking me home or ever getting a sale out of me. It was almost comical at times and I was saved more than once by my posse of Brad, Walt and Michael.
As the reception ended, the four of us decided to do drinks and bar food in the hotel bar and call it a night.
None of the three men that I was having dinner with would be called good-looking or overly attractive. Like me, they had all let the years and married life catch up to them. Brad was 41, about 6'1" and while not over weight had the middle age stomach bulge starting and had a receding hairline. Walt was a shorter man, 5'6" and in his mid-40's and while his hair was still full it showed many shots of gray, more each time we saw him. Walt was the most outgoing of our little group, more of a sales mentality than the rest of us. Michael was probably the best looking of our group standing 6'2", close to 200 pounds with a shaved head and goatee. Michael, while an imposing figure physically, was not a confident person and got bossed around a lot by other buyers in our group and more often than not by his bitchy, overbearing, yet wealthy wife.
I guess the point I am making is that none of the four of us were drop dead gorgeous, but we all knew that and did not take it personally and had happy lives nonetheless.
As the four of us grabbed a table in the bar, the guys were giving it to me hard about my popularity with the men at the reception.
"It looked like every shark in the room who didn't know you smelled fresh meat," said Walt.
"Little did they realize they were not going to get a smell of anything else," I told them and we all laughed.
"It did seem that the new girl from the paper company took a liking to you Mikey," I blurted out. "She had your ear and seemed to want more of you every time I looked over."
"It must have been my charming personality or maybe it was my big....paper buying budget...besides, if I was ever going to cheat on my wife, it would need to be a better option than a lonely paper saleswoman," replied Mike.
After we all downed our second round and finished up our appetizers, it was still too early to head to our rooms so we decided to have one more drink.
"Hey Lisa, did you hear that our buddy Brad got upgraded to a super suite due to them losing his reservation and his luggage being taken to the wrong room," asked Walt.
"What is a super suite and how is Brad? You probably have a nicer room than Mr. Peterson gets at this convention," I joked.
'It isn't that great, it only has two full bedrooms, two bathrooms, a sunken living room, a raised dining room, a full bar and a two level balcony with a hot tub," replied Brad.
"What," I screamed, "What the hell are we doing here, why aren't we up in your private palace hanging out drinking," I said.
"I didn't think it would be a good idea for the four of us to be hanging out in my hotel room," replied Brad.
"It is not like it is one room with a king bed, it is a condo-sized suite, I have never been in a hotel suite like that, let's go up and check it out," I said.
We all agreed with Brad being very reluctant and trying to talk us out of it.
As we entered the elevator, Brad had to put a key into the elevator to get it to allow him to push the button for the 28th floor.
"Christ Brad, you have your own floor, how can I get them to lose my reservation and luggage for that sweet of a deal," Walt piped in.
As the elevator doors opened instead of a long hallway, there were was a short one with only two doors, one labeled "A" and one labeled "B". Brad went to the "B' door and opened it with his room card. As we entered and walked down the stairs into the room, the suite was nicer and larger than my home. The furniture all looked like it was hand made and the entire suitet looked like something out of designer magazine. As we all took the tour of the room, more comments were made to try to embarrass Brad about the suite.
