This is the translation:
This story is fictional and never happened.
October 2006. A pleasant weekday, with medium temperatures but not hot, with clouds and some humidity. People were moving by hundreds in the center of this large city, who knows where they would go. To attend to a hospital, their jobs, to take a walk, to school, anywhere. In a simple bar, Pedro Mirandela and his friend Javier Poggio are talking about their lives, incoherent things, work, everything.
P: - How's everything going?
J: - Lucky me, 10 out of 10, old man. I must be in one of my best periods. I arrive at the end of the month without begging. It wasn't so terrible working, before it was a torture to hear that word.
P: - What happens is that we've always been slackers, that's why. I also used to crap myself, but this isn't so bad. You should ask for coffee to celebrate.
J: - Sure thing, that's why I came. You don't look like yourself as usual, did something happen?
P: - Last night I had a very strange dream, but I'm not sure if it's stranger or funnier.
J: - Don't try to screw with me, eh! You say that and scare me, and then it turns out to be a load of crap. You know me too well. What happened?
P: - I dreamed I was the old Ruckauf spinning around, dancing Gasolina. The truth is that the guy had a lot of energy, he made me laugh and get up.
J: - Did you get it wrong? Wasn't it Don Raimundo, from your neighborhood, who always got everyone to dance at year-end?
P: - I didn't get it wrong, and yes, it was old Ruckauf, the governor. You don't know how he moved his ass, what a son of a slut . He danced better than many young people. It was very similar to the last time this little guy came to Susana's place, about two years ago.
J: - Ah, Nelson. Yes, he died recently. That must have reminded you of that time and caused you so much joy imagining a young kid doing that, and your brain accepted it.
P: - Maybe. I envy Nelson, he moved better than me, better said, he used to move. You were a stiff, more rigid than wood. Your dreams are strange. Don't you dream... with women? P: - No. If I'm being honest, no. J: - You're weird. You've become weird. And let's say you didn't do well in facing things. P: - What do you want me to do? It didn't go well for me. And you wanted to turn around all of them, and none of them gave you the time of day, dude. J: - At least I tried. They cut my hair off, but okay. P: - My old lady always says that every situation happens in life. J: - Your old lady is the best! She has many reasons to say so: a resolved life, not like ours, which goes without direction. We're barely 23-year-old guys, and we've seen everything. P: - We're just now seeing the best, it's been a couple of years since we didn't have even 5 pesos. I'm very eager to live, to go out, to keep working. J: - That's how you talk! And also for going out partying. If I leave, will you come with me? P: - Go screw yourself. Give me a hug. Both: - It's worth being alive! Javier and Pedro leave the bar, walk about three blocks, and then each one will head to start their active employment day. But we'll focus on Pedro from now on. As previously mentioned by Javier, his friend wasn't a Don Juan, but rather the opposite. His proposals were never grotesque, but he had been keeping track. In 2000, a colleague slapped him twice and told him not to bother her again, saying he was a jerk. He became discouraged after that occasion, as he really liked her, but didn't turn into an obsessive one. For a time, he had forgotten about going out, dates (which had arrived in his life thanks to Javier's pirate) and alcohol, which once made him drunk enough for his parents to prohibit him from going to a club for three months. It was 10 o'clock, and he had arrived at his job. Sitting in an office was a blessing, especially for someone who was given their first job. He remembered how his mom educated him. She taught him several things, but the fundamentals were: walking upright, with your head held high, listening, respecting, being grateful, and asking for forgiveness WHEN NECESSARY. In March From the previous year they approved his entry request and since then he had enjoyed the worthy benefit of being able to work. His 900- peso salary left him sleeping peacefully, and he complemented the money that each month entered the house. His colleagues were educated and invited him to dinners where everyone attended, but the last dinner, on day 16, shook everyone up. Domingo Einaudi, the boss and president of the company, was retiring. With his 70 years, he wanted to go to the common world, away from numbers and orders, which had a little harmed him. The 14-hour stay inside the corporation provoked a blood pressure rise that made him fall down a couple of stairs and end up in the hospital for a month, last December. They prayed, asked, and the boss came back. But his farewell wrote a new chapter in the history of this family company, which would give the command to someone not linked to the environment for the first time. Domingo and his wife Silvita, along with the executive committee, decided that the person who had to succeed him should be young, powerful, capable, and committed, with an idea of who was going to lead. The job was given to Mercedes da Silva, who had been working uninterruptedly for 10 years and was very respected among her peers. She never imagined it and asked that Domingo be honorary president until his death. He would enter into office the following Monday.
Near the transition, Pedro couldn't stop thinking about two things: the first was about the new boss, with whom he had never dialogued, and the fear was there, because one always has fear of who doesn't know. The second thing, much smaller than the first, was Why did 'Madonna' do that?, he said to himself. Leaving aside the absurd pistolero from San Vicente, October 23 would be a new dawn, and everyone would be licking their lips with intrigue. There was a reception with breakfast, special guests, and a treat that the closest employees to Mecha, as they called her, wanted to organize for her since she had been promoted. Races, little songs, serpentine routes, trumpets, balloons, everything. Each office was decorated for the event. With nerves, Pedro went and wished her good luck. She thanked him, despite not knowing him. He retired to his new area, while the little songs continued, and the music of reggaetón, salsa, and cumbia played at a very low volume that didn't prevent anyone from continuing.
The tasks remained unchanged throughout the first month, but around November, a call fell like a rock on his head.
Secretary: - Look, they're waiting for you. Come in. Ma'am, here's the young man you called.
Mercedes: - Thank you, Manolo. You came to greet me when I just took this position, and I think it was very kind of you to do so.
Pedro: - Thank you, ma'am. Has anything happened?
Mercedes: - Nothing has to happen for me to want to talk to my employees (raises her voice slightly). Excuse me, but one has to know who they're working with on this big project.
Pedro: - You're right.
Mercedes: - I've always been right (emphasizes), that's why I was promoted. And I'm glad the effort pays off.
Pedro: - It's very good to make an effort. That's the origin of each one of our personal successes.
Mercedes: - I think you have the same concept as what they instilled in me. My grandparents emigrated to this country from Aveiro (Portugal), and always emphasized the beauty of working, that only then does one deserve what they get, and when they do, satisfaction is indescribable.
Pedro: - Of course, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Are you weak, Mirandela? (defiantly)
Pedro: - (hesitates) No... No... No... No, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Then don't look down, man. One has to always look up.
Pedro: - Excuse me, it won't happen again.
Mercedes: - I hope so, and I hope your stomach doesn't turn over.
Pedro: - I'm doing very well in health. I've never missed a day since I started here.
Mercedes: - OK, that's what It should happen to each of you. Come back now to your tasks.
Pedro: - See you later, and have a good day.
He left that office with his heart racing at 100 beats per minute, and with a sense of nervousness, but also the initial fear he had. He considered himself strong, but to stay would require him to be stronger. He couldn't be afraid, only outside. His boss was gracious, but didn't pay attention to it when she had him in front of her. She didn't want to see him and avoided him for a couple of weeks, and before the end of the month, Manolo yelled and the young man had to attend the tensest place in the company, where every decision was made, where every cent would have value, and those ideas had to pass through his head and the authorization of that woman.
Pedro: - Good morning, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Good morning, sir. It seems you took into account what I told you a fortnight ago.
Pedro: - What?
Mercedes: - You're looking at me, as is proper. I'll see that you're decided like this.
Pedro: - I'm always decided.
Mercedes: - So be it. I've received your work and it's not bad at all. What do you base yourself on for them to be efficient?
Pedro: - I think I base myself on understanding that there's a certain amount of money available and unmovable for each month, and that everything has to be made possible...
Mercedes: - (interrupts him) Oh, I see, but you can tell me more about it later.
Pedro: - Did something happen?
Mercedes: - Nothing; well, yes. You looked down again, man! Look up! (raises her voice)
Pedro: - I apologize a thousand times, it won't happen again. I promise.
Mercedes: - Do you have any problem that prevents you from looking at me?
Pedro: - (hesitates) No... No... No... Of course not, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Then, look at me, damn it!
Pedro: - Excuse me, please. Forgive... Forgive... (shaking)
Mercedes: - You're afraid of me... You wanted to disguise yourself as strong and it didn't work out. It didn't work out... (goes towards the door and locks the lock)
Pedro: - Why are you locking the door? Why do you...?
Mercedes: - (interrupts him) You're afraid of me because... Stay awake, right? Or am I mistaken? (firmly walks from one corner to another)
Pedro: - You never make a mistake, ma'am.
Mercedes: - That's what I wanted to hear. (slams the table) In some way, I knew you'd stay awake, if you'll permit me to address you informally.
Pedro: - You're permitted, ma'am.
Mercedes: - You won't have any privileged position in this company. You'll continue being an average worker, I warn you. (the boss wears a white blouse and black skirt, high-heeled shoes, and anti-slip stockings, unbuttons her blouse)
Pedro: - What are you doing?
Mercedes: - You're interested in what I'm doing. You like me, but you don't want to say it. You're too ethical, dear, that's your problem. (takes off her blouse and shows a white lace corset) You'll do what I tell you, and it's an order. Did you hear?
Pedro: - Yes, ma'am.
Limit situation. Without words, he remained silent, doing so to keep his job. Pedro was afraid of her dirty and lascivious gaze, and the fact that he was with the one who bossed him around left him confused. She grabbed his neck and forced him to look at her, and to taste her skin.
The primordial kisses were all over his body, making her crazier every time. That skin was marvelous, and the fact that it was tangible was like a forbidden fantasy. She's your boss, moderate, dude echoed in his mind, but the stage of hurricane formation was in its final preparation phase. The worst was about to come now. With both wrapped in soft and simple sheets (inside the office there was a hidden room with a bed, desk, computers, Internet, etc.), she continued to need him to fulfill her deepest desires. She had him dominated, only for herself, and he began to clear his mind, forgetting for a moment that distant labor relationship they had. He spoke to him almost like a baby, asking him to suck her breasts and lick them, and in that intention, he was forbidden from speaking, only making gestures. If you want more pleasure, She pressed his head harder to make him displace his tongue at a greater speed. He did get up and took a whip. He went to the door and cornered him. He pressed his neck and told him:
Mercedes: - Guy, you know how to use that mouth God gave you well, but that thing down there is unusable. Check if you can do something to improve it.
Pedro: - I'll investigate, ma'am, I will.
Mercedes: - I think I'm going to need a lot from you from now on. We'll see each other very often, won't we? (aggressively, and pressing his Adam's apple more)
Pedro: - You own me, ma'am. I'll be at your disposal. (gulps for lack of air)
Mercedes: - That's what I wanted to hear. You can take your clothes and go back to work, dear.
Pedro: Yes, ma'am.
Mercedes: - RAPIDLY! Don't let anyone see you.
The young man left quickly to his own office and continued working until 10 pm, then returned home. From then on, he would make several visits to Mrs. Da Silva's room. The other employees were sure to think two things about him: that they loved or scolded him. Definitely, both, but each in its due time.
This story is fictional and never happened.
October 2006. A pleasant weekday, with medium temperatures but not hot, with clouds and some humidity. People were moving by hundreds in the center of this large city, who knows where they would go. To attend to a hospital, their jobs, to take a walk, to school, anywhere. In a simple bar, Pedro Mirandela and his friend Javier Poggio are talking about their lives, incoherent things, work, everything.
P: - How's everything going?
J: - Lucky me, 10 out of 10, old man. I must be in one of my best periods. I arrive at the end of the month without begging. It wasn't so terrible working, before it was a torture to hear that word.
P: - What happens is that we've always been slackers, that's why. I also used to crap myself, but this isn't so bad. You should ask for coffee to celebrate.
J: - Sure thing, that's why I came. You don't look like yourself as usual, did something happen?
P: - Last night I had a very strange dream, but I'm not sure if it's stranger or funnier.
J: - Don't try to screw with me, eh! You say that and scare me, and then it turns out to be a load of crap. You know me too well. What happened?
P: - I dreamed I was the old Ruckauf spinning around, dancing Gasolina. The truth is that the guy had a lot of energy, he made me laugh and get up.
J: - Did you get it wrong? Wasn't it Don Raimundo, from your neighborhood, who always got everyone to dance at year-end?
P: - I didn't get it wrong, and yes, it was old Ruckauf, the governor. You don't know how he moved his ass, what a son of a slut . He danced better than many young people. It was very similar to the last time this little guy came to Susana's place, about two years ago.
J: - Ah, Nelson. Yes, he died recently. That must have reminded you of that time and caused you so much joy imagining a young kid doing that, and your brain accepted it.
P: - Maybe. I envy Nelson, he moved better than me, better said, he used to move. You were a stiff, more rigid than wood. Your dreams are strange. Don't you dream... with women? P: - No. If I'm being honest, no. J: - You're weird. You've become weird. And let's say you didn't do well in facing things. P: - What do you want me to do? It didn't go well for me. And you wanted to turn around all of them, and none of them gave you the time of day, dude. J: - At least I tried. They cut my hair off, but okay. P: - My old lady always says that every situation happens in life. J: - Your old lady is the best! She has many reasons to say so: a resolved life, not like ours, which goes without direction. We're barely 23-year-old guys, and we've seen everything. P: - We're just now seeing the best, it's been a couple of years since we didn't have even 5 pesos. I'm very eager to live, to go out, to keep working. J: - That's how you talk! And also for going out partying. If I leave, will you come with me? P: - Go screw yourself. Give me a hug. Both: - It's worth being alive! Javier and Pedro leave the bar, walk about three blocks, and then each one will head to start their active employment day. But we'll focus on Pedro from now on. As previously mentioned by Javier, his friend wasn't a Don Juan, but rather the opposite. His proposals were never grotesque, but he had been keeping track. In 2000, a colleague slapped him twice and told him not to bother her again, saying he was a jerk. He became discouraged after that occasion, as he really liked her, but didn't turn into an obsessive one. For a time, he had forgotten about going out, dates (which had arrived in his life thanks to Javier's pirate) and alcohol, which once made him drunk enough for his parents to prohibit him from going to a club for three months. It was 10 o'clock, and he had arrived at his job. Sitting in an office was a blessing, especially for someone who was given their first job. He remembered how his mom educated him. She taught him several things, but the fundamentals were: walking upright, with your head held high, listening, respecting, being grateful, and asking for forgiveness WHEN NECESSARY. In March From the previous year they approved his entry request and since then he had enjoyed the worthy benefit of being able to work. His 900- peso salary left him sleeping peacefully, and he complemented the money that each month entered the house. His colleagues were educated and invited him to dinners where everyone attended, but the last dinner, on day 16, shook everyone up. Domingo Einaudi, the boss and president of the company, was retiring. With his 70 years, he wanted to go to the common world, away from numbers and orders, which had a little harmed him. The 14-hour stay inside the corporation provoked a blood pressure rise that made him fall down a couple of stairs and end up in the hospital for a month, last December. They prayed, asked, and the boss came back. But his farewell wrote a new chapter in the history of this family company, which would give the command to someone not linked to the environment for the first time. Domingo and his wife Silvita, along with the executive committee, decided that the person who had to succeed him should be young, powerful, capable, and committed, with an idea of who was going to lead. The job was given to Mercedes da Silva, who had been working uninterruptedly for 10 years and was very respected among her peers. She never imagined it and asked that Domingo be honorary president until his death. He would enter into office the following Monday.
Near the transition, Pedro couldn't stop thinking about two things: the first was about the new boss, with whom he had never dialogued, and the fear was there, because one always has fear of who doesn't know. The second thing, much smaller than the first, was Why did 'Madonna' do that?, he said to himself. Leaving aside the absurd pistolero from San Vicente, October 23 would be a new dawn, and everyone would be licking their lips with intrigue. There was a reception with breakfast, special guests, and a treat that the closest employees to Mecha, as they called her, wanted to organize for her since she had been promoted. Races, little songs, serpentine routes, trumpets, balloons, everything. Each office was decorated for the event. With nerves, Pedro went and wished her good luck. She thanked him, despite not knowing him. He retired to his new area, while the little songs continued, and the music of reggaetón, salsa, and cumbia played at a very low volume that didn't prevent anyone from continuing.
The tasks remained unchanged throughout the first month, but around November, a call fell like a rock on his head.
Secretary: - Look, they're waiting for you. Come in. Ma'am, here's the young man you called.
Mercedes: - Thank you, Manolo. You came to greet me when I just took this position, and I think it was very kind of you to do so.
Pedro: - Thank you, ma'am. Has anything happened?
Mercedes: - Nothing has to happen for me to want to talk to my employees (raises her voice slightly). Excuse me, but one has to know who they're working with on this big project.
Pedro: - You're right.
Mercedes: - I've always been right (emphasizes), that's why I was promoted. And I'm glad the effort pays off.
Pedro: - It's very good to make an effort. That's the origin of each one of our personal successes.
Mercedes: - I think you have the same concept as what they instilled in me. My grandparents emigrated to this country from Aveiro (Portugal), and always emphasized the beauty of working, that only then does one deserve what they get, and when they do, satisfaction is indescribable.
Pedro: - Of course, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Are you weak, Mirandela? (defiantly)
Pedro: - (hesitates) No... No... No... No, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Then don't look down, man. One has to always look up.
Pedro: - Excuse me, it won't happen again.
Mercedes: - I hope so, and I hope your stomach doesn't turn over.
Pedro: - I'm doing very well in health. I've never missed a day since I started here.
Mercedes: - OK, that's what It should happen to each of you. Come back now to your tasks.
Pedro: - See you later, and have a good day.
He left that office with his heart racing at 100 beats per minute, and with a sense of nervousness, but also the initial fear he had. He considered himself strong, but to stay would require him to be stronger. He couldn't be afraid, only outside. His boss was gracious, but didn't pay attention to it when she had him in front of her. She didn't want to see him and avoided him for a couple of weeks, and before the end of the month, Manolo yelled and the young man had to attend the tensest place in the company, where every decision was made, where every cent would have value, and those ideas had to pass through his head and the authorization of that woman.
Pedro: - Good morning, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Good morning, sir. It seems you took into account what I told you a fortnight ago.
Pedro: - What?
Mercedes: - You're looking at me, as is proper. I'll see that you're decided like this.
Pedro: - I'm always decided.
Mercedes: - So be it. I've received your work and it's not bad at all. What do you base yourself on for them to be efficient?
Pedro: - I think I base myself on understanding that there's a certain amount of money available and unmovable for each month, and that everything has to be made possible...
Mercedes: - (interrupts him) Oh, I see, but you can tell me more about it later.
Pedro: - Did something happen?
Mercedes: - Nothing; well, yes. You looked down again, man! Look up! (raises her voice)
Pedro: - I apologize a thousand times, it won't happen again. I promise.
Mercedes: - Do you have any problem that prevents you from looking at me?
Pedro: - (hesitates) No... No... No... Of course not, ma'am.
Mercedes: - Then, look at me, damn it!
Pedro: - Excuse me, please. Forgive... Forgive... (shaking)
Mercedes: - You're afraid of me... You wanted to disguise yourself as strong and it didn't work out. It didn't work out... (goes towards the door and locks the lock)
Pedro: - Why are you locking the door? Why do you...?
Mercedes: - (interrupts him) You're afraid of me because... Stay awake, right? Or am I mistaken? (firmly walks from one corner to another)
Pedro: - You never make a mistake, ma'am.
Mercedes: - That's what I wanted to hear. (slams the table) In some way, I knew you'd stay awake, if you'll permit me to address you informally.
Pedro: - You're permitted, ma'am.
Mercedes: - You won't have any privileged position in this company. You'll continue being an average worker, I warn you. (the boss wears a white blouse and black skirt, high-heeled shoes, and anti-slip stockings, unbuttons her blouse)
Pedro: - What are you doing?
Mercedes: - You're interested in what I'm doing. You like me, but you don't want to say it. You're too ethical, dear, that's your problem. (takes off her blouse and shows a white lace corset) You'll do what I tell you, and it's an order. Did you hear?
Pedro: - Yes, ma'am.
Limit situation. Without words, he remained silent, doing so to keep his job. Pedro was afraid of her dirty and lascivious gaze, and the fact that he was with the one who bossed him around left him confused. She grabbed his neck and forced him to look at her, and to taste her skin.
The primordial kisses were all over his body, making her crazier every time. That skin was marvelous, and the fact that it was tangible was like a forbidden fantasy. She's your boss, moderate, dude echoed in his mind, but the stage of hurricane formation was in its final preparation phase. The worst was about to come now. With both wrapped in soft and simple sheets (inside the office there was a hidden room with a bed, desk, computers, Internet, etc.), she continued to need him to fulfill her deepest desires. She had him dominated, only for herself, and he began to clear his mind, forgetting for a moment that distant labor relationship they had. He spoke to him almost like a baby, asking him to suck her breasts and lick them, and in that intention, he was forbidden from speaking, only making gestures. If you want more pleasure, She pressed his head harder to make him displace his tongue at a greater speed. He did get up and took a whip. He went to the door and cornered him. He pressed his neck and told him:
Mercedes: - Guy, you know how to use that mouth God gave you well, but that thing down there is unusable. Check if you can do something to improve it.
Pedro: - I'll investigate, ma'am, I will.
Mercedes: - I think I'm going to need a lot from you from now on. We'll see each other very often, won't we? (aggressively, and pressing his Adam's apple more)
Pedro: - You own me, ma'am. I'll be at your disposal. (gulps for lack of air)
Mercedes: - That's what I wanted to hear. You can take your clothes and go back to work, dear.
Pedro: Yes, ma'am.
Mercedes: - RAPIDLY! Don't let anyone see you.
The young man left quickly to his own office and continued working until 10 pm, then returned home. From then on, he would make several visits to Mrs. Da Silva's room. The other employees were sure to think two things about him: that they loved or scolded him. Definitely, both, but each in its due time.
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