Ordinary life between spouses. Until one becomes a professional.
Key words:
Professional, unvoluntary cheating, yes my dear, Davalka, sociological terminology, marketing, holistic, customer satisfaction, businessman, Neandertal
Dear reader, it seems to have become good practice to warn you that this is my first work which I publish on the Literotica platform, so feel free to make sure that I will never ever try to do so again.
And yes, English was not my first language. Not even my second. Maybe you can play a little guessing game and find out what I might have wanted to write. And I dare to publish without bothering an editor first.
Of course, my work is copyright protected and I will happily sell licences of my publishing rights, in case they should be infringed, to some friends in Belarus and Serbia. They will collect their share; I am quite sure. Worldwide.
It also seems to be good practice to underline that all characters are above 21 or whatever legal age. And that no real bio or organic fruits or vegetables were injured during the research for this story. And all similarities with living or deceased or future persons are of course purely coincidental. And their names were changed as well, in case you should recognise something you saw or heard before.
And now, I hope you have a bit of fun.
——
“I have good news for you!”
We both stopped speaking, grinned and laughed.
“Stereo?”
We laughed harder, happy to have exactly spoken the same words at the same time.
Ilona embraced me and kissed me hard. I kissed back and had some trouble avoiding letting my briefcase with my laptop computer inside fall to the ground. With my free left hand I held her tight and swung her a half turn around. Although she had a sweet tooth and found small snacks everywhere, her daily runs, yoga and cycle tours had kept her slim during the five years of our marriage.
Finally, I set her down, laid my briefcase on the table and started to take off my winter coat. Big mistake.
“Oh no, your briefcase will not stay on the table. You know its place!”
I squirmed free of my coat. “I know, but please let me take off my coat first.”
“Kurt, if I let you do this, then our house will look like a junk yard in no time. Priorities first!”
Luckily, I had learned early in our marriage to close my eyes before rolling them, so that she did not see it. I took a deep breath, swiped the briefcase off the table and vanished into the room which I used as home office.
“Kurt, your dirty shoes will pollute the whole house! Shoes off first! And now you will vacuum the house on Saturday.”
I muttered “That is what I do every Saturday since we married”, turned back to the entrance door, put my briefcase on the floor, held my coat with my left hand and balanced on one foot while taking one shoe off after the other.
As I put my coat into the wardrobe, she looked around the corner and frowned “First you put your briefcase on the table, now on the floor. Will you never learn how to keep order?”
I decided to say nothing, but put my shoes into the shoe cabinet, hung my coat into the wardrobe and closed both of them. As I bent over to lift up my briefcase, I heard “Don’t tell me that your briefcase is still in the entrance hall.”
Trying to sound happy, I replied, “I’m working on it!” and moved towards my home office. Before I could open its door, Ilona’s beautiful voice sang out “And don’t forget to take out the garbage.”
I tried to answer in a nearly as sweet voice “Can’t I do this a bit later?”, hoping to get a bit of slack.
“Now!”
I inhaled deeply and suppressed to ask the question in which order I should take the trash, put on my shoes, plug one of her long blonde hairs that had – obviously without asking permission first – abandoned her blow-dried mane, but then decided to keep my mouth shut.
Ok. So, after moving into the kitchen and answering her question “Where is your briefcase now?” truthfully, I took the garbage bag out of the garbage bin, twisted it and had nearly left the kitchen when my next shortcoming was detected “Why did you not put a new garbage bag in?”.
“Because I always do this when I come back, so that my dirty hands will not contaminate the garbage bin.”
Which was followed by her friendly question “Can you not once do things the right way?”
I knew better than to argue, balanced the closed garbage bag in one hand and tried not to make a mess while putting a new garbage bag into the garbage bin with my other hand.
This gave me an instant reward “Oh dear god, why did you have to make all men act so clumsily?”
I made it to the entrance hall, put the garbage bag on the floor and started to put my shoes on when I heard “if you would have put the bag outside first, then the floor would not become dirty.”
Meanwhile I had put on my shoes again – not bothering with the shoelaces – and lifted the bag. Checking the dark grey slate beneath it, I confirmed my judgement. No trace of any dirt.
Coming back into the house, I started to take off my shoes when I heard “Did you check the mailbox, honey?”
Meanwhile my originally good mood had mostly evaporated. “Ilona, you do not have to work and should have had the time to check the mail. Why do I always have to do it? You pass it every time you go to Yoga, to the hairdresser, to jog, to cycle, to meet your friends, to shop and so on.”
“Because I don’t have time. And that is why we have to talk about my good news! Are you not curious to hear it? What is keeping you so long?”
When I walked into the living room she did not sit on the couch like normal, but at the big dining table, already facing me and pointed to the chair on the opposite side. Something was different. Very different.
“Kurt, don’t look so quizzical. Everything is good. I am turning professional.”
“Oh.”
I decided to better not say anything more, but put a smile on my face, nodded supportingly and looked at her, interested in what that actually meant.
This seemed to irritate her a bit, but then she sprang to attention, brushed a nonexistent hair from her face and started.
“You know that, based on our different formal education levels, which, of course, do not relate in any way to our competences, skills, efficiency and so on, we had decided that you earn money for us while I work on our social standing and on everything else. Right?”
I nodded.
“And we have already talked about that all we earn is our joint income and that this house is our joint house. Everybody has the same voice and we discuss everything so that we never have any reason for any disagreement. Right?”
I nodded again.
“After several consultation rounds even included some of our neighbors, my friends and I came to the conclusion that our efforts, would they be appraised professionally, would be probably more worth than the work of our husbands. Right?”
I inhaled, raised my bushy eyebrows and opened my mouth, but was cut short. “I see that I must explain a bit more.”
“I, for example, work as a cook, a professional cleaner, a kindergarden ward, a hygiene expert, a housekeeper and at least once a week as a sex worker. Plus, as an escort whenever we go out to church, to meet friends or even your business partners. And I do a good job at all of these things. Right?”
This time I needed to disagree. I was definitively no child that needed a kindergarden ward (and we had no children yet). And as a sex worker she was not exactly…
But before I could even open my mouth, the best wife of all rattled on. “I see that you have no objections. So, now imagine that you would have to coordinate all these different specialists, which would be the task of a project manager and if you would have to pay for all the travel costs to and from work and all the other expenses. You see?”
I tried to object, but was not fast enough.
“So, we calculated a bit around and came up with around 70 to 80.000 Euros per year. And this is an estimate on the low side. You see?”
This time, lacking further information on how she calculated, I nodded to show that I was still listening, although my mind drifted towards questions how I should best re-organise my new department at work.
She droned on for some time and I nodded slightly every time I heard “Right?”.
After some time I thought that I should be a bit more attentive although my input was obviously not worth asking for. I mean, apart from being rhetorically asked. We had had many fights before because whenever she presented a problem to me, I tried to find a quick solution. Which was never appreciated, but just lead to lengthy discussions without a solution.
Although this was never taught at school (so much about ‘non schoelae sed vitae discimus’ – ‘we don’t learn for school, but for life’), I was – for a man – not totally stupid and had learned that women probably did not seek solutions, but simply support whenever a problem arose. And I had found out that nodding was the second-best solution to every problem she came up with. Social experts would utter fragments like ‘oh really’, ‘what a shame’, ‘that must have felt terrible’, ‘someone should really do something about this’ and so on. But, as I already stated, on my intermediate intellectual level, nodding was obviously considered as sufficient.
Finally, she looked at me and smiled “So, now you have understood that my work is so much more worth than yours. And even better, I can add to this! Isn’t this really good news?”
I looked at her, knowing despite my significantly inferior intelligence level that nodding would not be the right reaction to this statement and question. “And how much better would that be?”
“Oh Kurt, I know that this might hurt you, but please know that I really, really love you and that I consider you as an equal partner to me.” And she continued talking for several minutes, but gave no really relevant information. At least not for my inferior IQ. She ended with “Now that it is clear that this will change nothing between us and even enhance our resources. Do you agree?”
I looked pensive “Can you please repeat the numbers again?”
Ilona rolled her eyes “Kurt, this is so easy. Even you should have understood the first time. But you might have had a bad day, so I will repeat myself. My household work alone is worth about 80.000 Euros per year. And with my additional new professional addition I will add up to 50.000 Euros per year to that! And I only need to work one or two days a week! Without any negative aspects for you! Isn’t this phantastic?”
I nodded and added cautiously “If I understood the numbers correctly, then…”.
She laughed with this happy, singing laugh that would melt any man’s heart like butter in the sun. “Yes. Don’t worry. Wladi explained all this. Everting is true and verified.”
I must have looked quite surprised “Wladi?”
She laughed again and even touched my hands, that I had put on the table between us, for the first time.
“Wladi is my manager.”
I must have looked even more surprised “Your manager? You took a new job? What kind of job?”
I was a bit shaken, too. We had both agreed that all major decisions had to be discussed and agreed before any decision between us both. Major decision like which concert we would attend, where we would go for holidays, which TV program we wanted to see and so on. And of course, even bigger decisions as well.
When I had arrived home earlier, my intention had been to get her approval for accepting the position as chief department manager, which was offered to me today. Coupled with a nice, six figures income. Plus a bonus scheme coupled to our company’s share price.
Ilona beamed “The opportunity was just too good! Wladi said that he could only offer it for a few hours and that if I did not take it it would be gone forever. So what could I do? Decline the opportunity to step up from being the bigger contributor to our marriage to now becoming the dominant contributor to our partnership? I had to make a quick decision. The early worm is caught by the bird, right? Oh, I am so lucky. And you are, too! I love you!”
She jumped up, spilled a bit of the glass of wine which stood before her and pirouetted.
Then suddenly she stopped, sat down, brushed another non-existing hair out of her face and proclaimed “Sorry, I should behave more professional now. I am professional now. I am a professional PR manager now.”
I took some deep breaths. Something had happened and I wanted to understand the facts as well as the dynamics behind.
“Oh darling, I am so happy for you! Which agency are you working for? And where are their offices? How did you convince them of your competences? You have a bachelor’s degree in medieval music, how does that relate to PR?”
“Hihi, now I see that you are envious. But you don’t need to worry. Nothing will change for you. Except that we will have a lot more money and that I get more appreciation for my professional work in addition to being a perfect wife.”
What could I do in this situation? Being a supportive spouse is probably the biggest task of the husband. Of course, I had to be happy, but I was still interested in getting a bit more information.
“Oh, this really sounds lovely, and I wish I could have been part of this wonderful decision! So, what is the name of your company and where are their offices?”
“The agency is named Davalka PR and it has a really unique business model. It does not require offices like those old-timer companies, but it works project based, remote and distributed. Its core value is holistic customer satisfaction, sustainable profit, and a cross-functional commitment to profitable growth. And we might even get a certification for being CO2-neutral, although there seem, to be some problems with getting labelled as organic and vegan. Isn’t this wonderful? And before I forget, it also supports the ILO in its work against child labour and has committed to several of the UN’s 17 sustainable development goals like zero hunger and clean water. Just imagine me being part of all this!”
And she jumped up, spilling the rest of the wine, pirouetted again and even gave me a big kiss over the table before brushing another nonexistent hair away, sitting down and assuming attention.
“Sorry, I need to work a bit on being totally professional.”
“Oh. Wow. You really learned that part of the presentation well. So how did you find them?”
“You won’t believe this! Two weeks ago, on our girl’s night out, we went dancing a bit and Natasha, you know, the good looking blonde with the professional clothes, met two friends of hers there and asked them to come to our table.”
I held up my hand “Natasha? You mean duck-lips Natasha?”
I must explain that Natasha, though being basically a good-looking, may be a bit extrovert, girl, had strategically enhanced her appearance. My guess was a chin liposuction, an eye lid tightening, some lip injections and, of course, a silicon breast enhancement. Plus some face hair removal and some permanent makeup. Through her usually quite transparent blouses you easily detect numerous tattoos and piercings. Her lip injections were so gross that I could only think of her as duck-lips Natasha.
“Kurt, this is awful. She just underlined her natural beauty a bit by changing her hair colour and doing some make-up. I don’t know why you cannot accept this. Are you envious?” And she giggled for nearly a minute.
After she calmed down, I nodded and asked “So how did they come to talk about the PR work?”
Ilona smiled broadly “Oh, first we danced quite a bit and they saw that we were sufficiently hydrated. By the way, we must try Strawberry Daiquiris at our next neighborhood party as well!”
“Strawberry Daiquiris?”
“Oh yes, they are so tasty! With many vitamins! And very good against dehydration – at least if you drink enough.”
“Hm.”
“Oh yes, and then we played a few games. No, I don’t like that look on your face. They were quite innocent. And everything was consensual. Yes, they insisted on that. And then we talked about their concept. It is very sociological and probably not easy to understand for engineers like you.”
Now, this did not make me very happy. I stopped wondering about the use of the word ‘consensual’ and sensed some anger growing. You should understand that engineers are – at least from an engineer’s point of view – at the top of the education pyramid. Oh, ok, together with physicists. And medical doctors. And computer scientists – well not, they don’t count as I consider them engineers as well.
“So, what do I not understand?”
She is not dumb and immediately understood her mistake.
“Oh honey, I just meant that some of those words of sociological terminology might be a bit unfamiliar for engineers in general. I mean, especially for mechanical engineers, not electrical engineers like you, of course.
I nodded, content that I had such a cunning and intelligent wife. I was really lucky!
“Well, what does this dabbawalla PR do?”
“Oh, my dear, it has nothing to do with Indian lunchboxes, it is…”
“But that is what dabbawalla means…”
“Honey, the name is Dawalka PR. I don’t know what that means exactly, it might be a family name, but I never asked. They sell services that ensure holistic customer satisfaction.”
“And what does this mean?”
“First of all, it is a holistic approach. This entails that we do not intent to cover only a small part of a customer’s problem or desire, but that we encompass it holistically. Therefore, we look at the complete experience including, but not limited to, the psychological aspects as well as the physiological ones…”
I really did not pay too much attention, unfortunately, but was still struggling with the word ‘holistic’. Somehow this rang a bell, but I could not exactly place it.
“Ilona, this holistic approach, I mean, well, I don’t know, but somehow, I keep thinking about detectives and some guy named Dirk, but it all does not make much sense to me. Does it to you?”
Ilona laughed “You probably read too many books from authors like Adam Douglas or the like. Wladi said something about it. Did you listen to what I said and are you ok with it?”
Damned! Should I confess that I did not really listen and receive another verbal humiliation? On the other hand, the truth is what sets you free, isn’t it?
So, I nodded.
“Ok, that is what I assumed. So now let us celebrate. Oh, by the way, what was your good news, honey?”
I had nearly forgotten. As I had learned in recent years, my perfect wife was not too much interested in listening to my stories from work. I decided to keep my answer short.
“I was offered a promotion at work.”
“Well, this is so great, honey. One more reason to party! So, you finally get your chance to lead a small team?”
She had obviously either not listened closely during the last years or simply forgotten. I had become a team leader two years after our marriage, then a group leader one year later and early this year a head of department, being in charge of nearly 100 architects and engineers.
Environmentally, we were also striving to develop sustainable products, we were for example working on new machines that would enable to omit plastic labels on food. A prototype which I had partially invented, was soon about to be tested.
“Sweetheart, I did a good job after my last promotion and when our company bought our largest competitor and half of their managers left, we decided to reorganize everything. So now my team consists of two…”.
My wife interrupted me, not letting me add the words ‘hundred and seventy’, cried out a shriek of joy and hugged me. “I knew it. I always knew it. You are my hero, Kurt!”
She let me go, smiled and asked, “So how much more will you earn now?”
I stood straighter, grinned, and proclaimed happily “I will now earn nearly two….”
“Yipiiieeee!” the best wife of all proclaimed, hugging me again “That will be more than 2.000 per year extra. If we add my additional 50.000 Euro to that, then we are nearly rich! Oh, I am so proud of you!”
“Ilona, this is not exactly true as I will also…”
“Of course, I know that you will need to work harder and will have a bit less time for me than today. But this does not change a thing! I will also have to work a bit, so we will never be left alone at home then. Oh, how all good things come together in just a few days!”
I thought better than telling her that I now also had – for the first time in my career – a performance bonus which might in best case add another 50 percent and that I could also receive a significantly better company car. She would soon notice and adding my information would most probably not enhance her good mood further, so I left it at that.
She returned from the kitchen with a bottle of Madame Glykol’s bubbly. “This is MY signing bonus from Wladi!” she exclaimed while she worked on the cork which finally evaded its prison with a bang and resulted in a small shower of glass from the chandelier that was not able to step aside fast enough. “Oops!”
We cleaned the glasses that she had already put on the sideboard and then filled our glasses with the remaining fluid. The rest of the bubbly had been distributed all over the living room as Ilona had tried to close the bottle with her thumb, which resulted in a nice spray fog which would have made any fireman envious. Ilona giggled “Just like the celebration with Davalka. We were all sticky afterwards.”
I raised my eyebrows “Where did you celebrate then?”
Ilona blushed a bit, thought for a moment and answered “At the hotel of course. Wladi had rented a conference room for the signing and we all celebrated a bit.”
“Wait a moment. You signed already? What about our agreement that we would make all major decisions together?”
Ilona crossed her arms and looked at me. “You tell me that you were promoted but you have not signed yet?”
I stuttered “Yes. I have the contract in my briefcase as I wanted to discuss it with you before. The company has already signed.”
“So, you want to celebrate without everything being fixed? Is that not a bit premature?”
“But I only said that I had good news. Did you really sign already? May I see the contract as you often find some hidden clauses that need to be clarified immediately, my dearest?”
“Kurt. Now listen. I am a professional now, just like you. Do you not trust my intellect?”
Oh shit. I felt outmaneuvered. I trusted her, but I did not fully trust her professional contract negotiation abilities fully. Hell, this was the first time she had ever done such a thing. My thoughts were interrupted.
“Kurt? What’s the matter? Do you trust your wife or don’t you? I want to hear your answer now and if you need to think about it then I will know just how little you think of me.”
I simply nodded. What else could I do? Have a big fight which I would surely loose and end up in the guest room for two weeks like last month when I did not fully agree that it was the city’s fault to keep the switching times of the traffic light on station street from green to red that short?
I sighed “Yes, my dear. Of course I trust you. But I am still interested in the contract.”
Ilona paused for a second. “Oh, don’t mind. Wladi took my copy as well. He asked me whether I trusted him and of course, I did. Unlike you. You should be a bit more trusting in your fellow people. Nowadays’ businesses are all based on trust, my dear. You would live a much happier life!”
I nodded, hoping that we would continue the celebration later in the bedroom.
Later, in the bedroom, Ilona proclaimed “It has been such a thrilling and inspiring day. Except for the discussion about your trust issues, of course. And yes, you may sign your contract as team leader. It’s only two thousand extra, but we will cope. At least I will make 50.000 Euro extra.”
“Ilona, actually it is not only…”
“Kurt, enough business talk for today. I am exhausted and tired. You could still massage my feet for a bit so that I will sleep fast. I need to be fresh and energized for my first day at work tomorrow.”
With that the most adorable woman in the world turned her back to me, pushed her feet behind her and started humming happily when I started massaging her feet.
Tomorrow was her first working day? She was really moving fast!
I stretched myself, silenced my vibrating wristwatch and turned towards Ilona. She had her back towards me and I started rubbing her shoulders gently. I heard a small groan “Deeper. Still deeper. A bit more to the outside. Hmm, now this is quite good.”
I moved to kiss her neck. “Don’t stop working. I need to be relaxed for work today.”
Several hours later I woke up, kissed the best wife of all and went into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later I drank my cappuccino (yes, we had a machine for this, but still needed to put sugar, cacao powder and some cinnamon on top manually) and looked at my mails. Although I had not signed yet, my mailbox was full of congratulations.
I wondered why Ilona had not appeared yet, so I went upstairs to find her still in bed. I sat next to her “Ilona, what time does your work start?”
She groaned “Why did you stop massaging me?”
I repeated myself “Ilona, when does your work start?”
“Later.”
“How much later? I could take you there.” I added “If I knew where you worked.”
“Later.”
“How much later?”
“I don’t know. Sergej will call me two hours before.”
“Sergej?”
“Yes.”
“Who is Sergej?”
“A colleague.”
“I can’t wait much longer as my new main department will need me there. Let me book a nice restaurant for the evening so that we can celebrate.”
“Main department?” She giggled “I love your humor! And we better do this on Saturday. I don’t know how long I will need to work today.”
I shrugged my shoulders and drove to work.
When I arrived, my secretary beamed at me “There you are. Did you sign? I feel so honored that you kept me as secretary. You could have chosen a much younger one.”
I looked at Monica. She was about sixty years old, friendly, competent and knew everybody in our original company. She was a gem, and I would have been an idiot if I replaced her with somebody else.
“Monica, I need somebody who keeps me connected with reality. You deliver great work, and I would not exchange you for anybody else.” I grinned and she nodded. She knew that her work was not always completely fault free, but the total package counted for me and whenever I gave or sent back something with a little highlighting, I could be sure that she corrected it in no time.
“I hear rumors that our CEO wants to make you a vice president later this year, but I can’t disclose from whom.”
I laughed “That would be much too fast. Don’t believe this. If I work well, may be in four years.”
“My source is quite reliable.”
“Oh.”
The good old secretary network. There were times when all of the secretaries seemed to vanish from earth for half an hour. The next day many important business decisions would be announced. Monica was part of the network and gave me hints which of my ideas would probably find fast acceptance and which should be thought over again. Obviously, I was not the only one who listened. I was not sure whether this was the only reason that our company was so successful, but it definitively played a major role.
So, I just nodded.
“I decided not to order new business cards for you. I don’t want to waste money on things which might be outdated fast.”
I looked at her doubtful, but smiled.
“Chef?”
“Monica?”
“I just can’t figure out how you can be so polite and humble and so successful at the same time.”
“I try to be friends with everybody. Until they work against me. And you have not experienced me when I am at war.”
Monica laughed “As if you could harm a fly. How many people have you killed, chef?”
I flipped the fly I had caught in flight, just before Monica entered the room, off the table, muttered silently “too many, too many” and wiped away a tear. Some memories should stay buried for ever.
From the angle of my eyes, I saw Monica looking at me quizzically and worried. “Chef? Are you ok?”
I nodded answered “Soon.” She looked at me for a long time while I started looking at the new organization charts.
“Chef.” I looked up. “I am sorry, chef. I don’t know what happened, but my question was improper. I am really sorry. Was it that bad?”
I nodded and did not look up. “About fifteen.” I opened my briefcase, took the contract out, paraphrased every page and signed at the end.
Monica had started to laugh at my remark, but stopped quickly when I did not react further.
I looked up “Please deliver my new contract personally to HR.”
She took the papers “I will make copies for you before that and will also send you a scanned version. I will be there if you want to talk. And I am really sorry that I asked the question.”
In the afternoon I called Monica in. She sat down and smiled, then started talking before I could.
“Chef, how do you like your new position? Some younger secretaries have asked how you feel, and I see that your new position seems to add attention to how most women here look at you. I don’t like this stone age behavior, but it is how it is. And a lot of men show more respect as well. Even to me.”
I nodded “Let us make sure that we keep a good balance. I hope that we still have some left who voice their opinion. I am not a Czar who will only listen to yes-sayers.”
Monica smiled “Good that you did not change. I will do my best to help you stay this way. You know that this will demand more energy from you than going for yes-sayers only?”
I smiled and nodded “Yes, but for me it is worth to have diversity of opinion besides the other diversities. I believe in balanced approaches.”
“Good to hear, chef. Now you should go home. It is Friday, nearly 6 in the afternoon and you should celebrate with Ilona. Please greet her from me!”
Of course, I did not make it home before seven thirty. At least I had sent Ilona a short text, informing her that I should be home soon.
The house was dark, which was a surprise. I checked my messages, but there was nothing.
At home I took my freedom to put my briefcase on the floor, took my coat off, sat down on the bench in the entrance hall to take off my shoes and then put my briefcase into the home office room. All smooth. No dirt. No problem. I relaxed.
I wondered when Ilona would come home and started to prepare a cold supper for us. At eight I watched the local news and browsed a bit through international newspapers in parallel. I wonder to this day how people who speak only one or two languages can have a balanced picture of the world. I always found it very interesting how news agencies in different countries could inform about basically the same happenings from very different angles.
You wonder? Well, this is what happened that evening: A Russian agency commented on oil prices “the western capitalism faces another crisis as oil prices soar again”. A Swedish paper commented “the rise in oil prices will facilitate a much quicker transition to sustainable energies”. An American TV station commented “the president welcomed the increase in income for our starving oil industry” whereas an Indian internet service demanded immediate subventions for fossil fuel in order to dampen the negative effects for poor people. A German info paper commented that while the transition towards hydrogen would demand too high investments into renewable energy sources, efficiency increases would benefit technologically advanced economies. A Chinese news agency made it clear that while the party would continue to work towards a fossil free future, the increased oil prices would demand a temporary production increase in coal.
“Wonderful, I thought.”
Checking my new contract again, I decided to inform my bank to buy hydrogen related stocks for 1.000 Euro monthly. Next, I discussed with myself whether to drink a Mojito, a glass of wine or a beer. The red wine won.
Half an hour later I checked my messages again. Nothing, so I decided to call my wife. You may have guessed it, her phone was ‘currently unavailable’.
At nine o’clock I tried again. Same result. And at nine thirty. And at ten.
By then I had eaten and cleared the table.
A quarter past ten the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then continuously.
I went to the door, wondering what had happened.
As soon as I opened it, my wife staggered past me “Quick, quick, I need to pee!” and disappeared into the guest toilet.
I closed the door and looked at the mess that she had left. Her coat on the floor next to the door. Her handbag lay open, two meters further, with some items scattered around. Then a high heeled shoe with its sole painted in red. And last a scarf, jammed partially in the toilet door.
I contemplated the still life and wondered what the reaction would be if I raised my voice the same way she had done it the day before. No need to start World War three today. Instead, I took some photos from different angles and played a bit with the lights in the entrance hall until my artistic soul was satisfied. I liked the photo and was happy.
Until I saw the pack of condoms besides the handbag. I picked it up and was relieved to see that it was not opened. Still, I was not that happy anymore.
We had decided – at a time when we still did this together – that we would postpone having children until we were financially stable. Now, with both of us approaching 30 and good paying jobs, that time was definitively near, and we could start the discussion when she would stop taking the pill. Somehow condoms did not fit into the picture. Should the pill not be sufficient?
Just then I heard the toilet flush and my wife – did not appear. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Of course, just give me a moment!”
Five minutes later she appeared without makeup. Ok, mostly without makeup. I could see a multicolored towel in the back. She held the other shoe in her hand, looked around and complained “Oh my god, what a mess! After I gave you that much time to put everything in place, you just stand there? Hurry up! What if a neighbor came in right now? What would he think about us?”
I looked at her, shrugged my shoulders, placed the condoms in her hand and started to place her coat in the wardrobe.
“Kurt, where did you get these condoms? I am on the pill! You are not cheating on me, are you? Really? Really?”
“Ilona, these condoms were in your handbag.”
“Oh my god, now you are checking my handbag? The most secret place a woman can have? Are you not ashamed of yourself?”
“They fell out. They fell out of your handbag. They are your condoms.”
“Kurt, stop making excuses. Manipulating the handbag to check its contents is a clear sign of distrust. Don’t you trust me? Me, your ever-loving wife? What have I done to deserve this degrading behavior?”
“Who put these condoms in your purse?”
“How should I know who manipulated with my handbag? You just did. And you did not even apologize. Nor did you put my shoes away or take my scarf out of the danger zone!”
This led to nothing. But still I wondered.
“When did you buy the scarf, the skirt, and these shoes? I am sure I never saw them before!”
“Well, this is another proof of male ignorance. You have seen them several times before.”
I looked at the show’s red soles “They don’t look like much wear. I would bet today was the first day they were worn. And I definitively never saw you with such a short skirt before!”
“These are normal business clothes.”
“Not where I work.”
“You work in the industry. Coal, steel, dust everywhere. I work in a highly professional negotiation and counselling surrounding. The rules there are a bit different.”
“The drawing and calculation of buildings and machines definitively does not happen in a surrounding where steel is melted, and coal is burned. In our offices any dust is permanently filtered away due to the delicate computers and our new laser cutters everywhere.”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever what?”
“What is your point? I work hard, I wear professional clothes and I make good money. People respect me for my professional attire and my professional approach.”
I decided to leave this area of dispute and get some more information.
“Why did you have to work so late and why did you not inform me? I tried to contact you all the time.”
“Kurt, are you spying on me again? I work professionally and I can’t be distracted by irrelevant phone calls.”
She paused and thought for a moment. “May be that was a bit harsh. I appreciate that you care for me.”
I nodded and waited.
“What?”
“Why did you work that late?”
“The working hours depend on the customers. They decide and they pay.”
She looked into her handbag and took out two hundred Euro notes.
“Here. This is what I earned today.”
My surprise was genuine. Her smile was triumphant.
“Enjoy. I know that you are envious, but I am YOUR wife. We earned this together!”
I breathed in. I breathed out. And again.
“When did you leave?”
“Is this relevant?”
“I just want to know how many hours you worked.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated.” I looked at her “in what respect?”
“I need to change into something more comfortable.”
And with this she disappeared upstairs.
I picked up her other things, looked into her phone, sent the contacts she had called during the last days to my phone and checked her texts. She never texted much. There was only one hairdresser’s appointment at lunchtime.
Fifteen minutes later I called up “I would like to discuss a few more things.”
“I am tired, and I am already in bed. Will you join me?”
Her feet needed a massage again, but that was all the intimacy I got.
At breakfast I tried to start the conversation again. Her answer was quick.
“We discussed it all yesterday.”
“But I am proud to have a wife that earns so much money. Can’t I be proud of you?”
That worked and she beamed “Of course, honey!”
“Look, it was just a bit over four hours of work. And I received 200 Euros. Imagine! I don’t want to boast, but when did you ever earn that much money in such a short time?”
I feared that I had to disappoint her “Every day.”
She started laughing “Oh, you are such a funny guy. Making jokes with an earnest face. I love you so much! You are so professional!”
I nodded.
She continued “Actually, I made even more money. I received even 500 Euros.”
“Ah, I understand. Minus tax, social security and so on. Oh, by the way, we have to get your own health insurance.”
“Health insurance? Why?”
“Because you earn money now.”
“Wladi said, I could remain on yours.”
“Not when you are earning your own money.”
“But what do I pay that from?”
“You don’t. That is why the agency gets more money and pays tax and social security including health insurance for you.”
“I am not sure about this.”
“Well, it is law, and it must be written in your contract as well. Have you received your copy meanwhile?”
“No, this is safe with Wladi.”
“Please make sure that the taxes and social security are paid. It is all documented in your pay slip.”
“Oh, we don’t need this.” Ilona beamed.” We are working sustainable. No paper. No pay slips. All lean and very agile.”
“So, you get your pay slip online?”
Ilona laughed. “No. We are working professionally. Trust based economy. No waste. Very sustainable, agile and lean.”
“But Wladi sure pays taxes on your income?”
“Must he?”
“If he does not then you must. It depends on your contract. Let us have a look at it.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“The longer we discuss the less I trust Wladi.”