Slip of the Tongue

 The studio door crashes back against the wall and standing in front of her is enthusiasm incarnate.
      Jackson’s, eyes crinkle in all the right places, and his tanned masculine body stands panting from his run up the stairs, his dark hair array, and a smile that could light the night sky.

Betty, just stares at this apparition who recently joined her graphic design business. A business, after two years, still operated out of her parent’s converted loft.

It’s not that she hadn’t had clients. Just not the big money spinners, more along the bread and butter line, business cards, web design, small adverts and flyers. She wasn’t sure how Jackson became part of the team. Betty, thought it had something to do with a boozy night down the local. But here he was larger than life, and from behind his back he conjures a bunch of flowers in his outstretched hand, and beaming boyish charm.

Bouquet of Flowers 

Betty, tilts back her chair and thinks, ‘this guy is way too young for me,’ then using her best stern boss voice, ‘Where’ve you been we start at 9:00 am on Mondays.’

‘Yeah, yeah I know. But I had to stop for flowers, and I’ve got a great idea for that new band logo.’

Betty, steels herself against another Jackson Jones idea.

‘What were ya doin, waitin for them to bloom, its bloody lunchtime.’

‘Oh, is it. I’ll tell you my idea over lunch if ya wana go out.’

‘You know, Jackson, my parent’s think you’re a dick.’

‘Yep, your old man’s not keen, but I told him, to chill out, I’d grown on him.’

‘Really and how did that work for you?’

‘Not great he walked off mumbling something about soap scum.’

‘Anyway, about this idea do you want to hear it or not.’

            Betty, leans forward on the desk, points at the coffee machine, hands him her cup. “Talk while you get coffee.’

            ‘Right.’ Jackson, rinses the cup and pours a rich muddy brew, and hands it back. He pulls up a chair and starts his spiel. ‘Ya know the new band down the local,’ Betty nods, ‘well they want some flyers drawn up, but they also want to design a logo.’

            ‘Yep, I discussed designs with them last week, Jackson, remember and we took the promo photos.’

            ‘Ok, ok but they were for the flyers. This is for the logo. Their name is ‘Slip of the Tongue’ I was thinking big enormous lush lips with a huge tongue sticking out, all in shiny black gloss.’

Betty, just stares in mock surprise.

         

Purple Flowers

   “You’re overwhelmed right. I can see it on your face.”

She watches, Jackson, wiggle in his chair like a new puppy. Diplomacy, Betty thinks, but what comes out is “John Pasche.”

            “No, No, we don’t need another artist we can do the design ourselves.”

Blank faced, Betty knows, Jackson has to go. All body no brain; it’s not working for her, and the irony was killing her. 

With a smile she tries again, “Rolling Stones Complete Collection 1971-2003.” No response from, Jackson, other than a slight slackening of the jaw. Diplomacy gone, Betty sighs, “It’s been done, but in red.”

     Jackson’s, muscles bunched, and before he could pounce, she held up her hand, “Stop, don’t start with someone stole your idea, we went through that last week with the canned soup.” 

Happy for critique. Leave your comments below.