Over the next two weeks, though, I was becoming a little disturbed. As a result of referrals from Mrs. Walker, I had called on Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Gennaro. All of them needed minor adjustments to their transition. Strangely, none of them had the cash on them to pay me. Well, Mrs. F stripped to the waist, sucked my balls and jacked me off over her tits. Mrs. M stripped to her underwear, had me suck and nibble on her breasts, and then sucked me off. My girlfriend wouldn’t even do that, so having my spunk gulped down by Mrs. M was worth it. Mrs. G was a large (and I mean large!) Italian lady and actually had me fuck her. I was happier than a pig in shit. Until the end of the month when my landlord came for the rent.
I’d been so busy getting my knob polished, sucked and fucked that I had forgotten to square up the books. I’d written $125 worth of receipts that I hadn’t covered. The day before I had paid out $600 for supplies and had no cash. The landlord pointed out that I was short on the rent. He could easily rent the workshop to someone on his waiting list. The figure the rent was short by? $125.
I managed to cover the rent by putting off a few personal pursuits and was going to survive. My girlfriend was a little pissed that we were going to have to miss out on a weekend away, but things were cool. I resolved that I would only take cash payments at the completion of jobs from now on. No hand-jobs, head-jobs, boob-jobs or fucking fat Italian ladies. Cash on the barrel hand.
Another couple of weeks passed by. Now being that I was just a small one-man operation, I’d been able to turn a reasonable profit for myself without having to lay out money for wages etcetera. The profit wasn’t huge, but it was keeping me well enough.
Then one day as I was working on a set, I answered a call from a friend in TV retail. The news he had wasn’t good. Galaxy TV, a chain of TV repair shops had opened a branch not too far from me. They were charging really competitive prices for cable installations, tunings, and repairs and had the backup of being a national chain. These bastards were horning in on my racket.
I panicked. I called all of my customers and had a bunch of new fliers printed up with some pretty seriously reduced prices. If I could undercut the boys at Galaxy, I would keep my customers. One or two may go, but I was prepared for that. For the next two weeks, I worked like a bastard. Taking on more work than I could handle. I got it all done, but my girlfriend wouldn’t talk to me, let alone give me any quality time, because I was always working, sometimes 16 hours a day.
At the end of the month when I did the accounts, I hadn’t made much profit for my efforts, but I had the expenses covered. The rent, utilities and work supplies were covered. Just. I was writing out the cheques and sealing them up. Joe the postman was there waiting to take them. As I handed him the envelopes for the phone, electricity and parts wholesaler, the phone started to ring. I saw Joe off and absently picked up the phone. It was my landlord.
“Well Andrew, do you have the rent this month?”
“Yes Mr. Rutherford,” I answered the slimy bastard with a sneer. “I have your $900 for you.”
“$900?” he queried. “Didn’t you get my letter on the 23rd? As of the 1st of next month, the rent is $1100!”
I was gob smacked. I looked in my in tray and saw his letter. I’d noted it, but had been so busy that I had forgotten to take it into the account. Damn. It would really hurt to come up with the other $200. To old Rutherford I feigned coolness when I spoke.
“Oh that’s right. Yes I have it for you.”
“Good!” he said. “I’ll come by at 5.00p.m. tomorrow to pick it up.”
He hung up and I dropped to the floor with my head in my hands. I’d only made $200 profit. $100 of that was committed to the jewellery store holding my girlfriends engagement ring. That left me $100 short. Just as I was about to lose it and start smashing up the place, the phone rang again. It was after five and I was officially closed, but I answered the call. To my great surprise it was Mrs. Walker. “Hello Andrew. I have a job for you.”
As soon as I heard the word job, the cash register noise went off in my head. God I hoped it was something big. As long as it made me the hundred I needed, though, I’d live to fight ’til next month.
“I’ve just bought a big rear projection TV, DVD player and a new VCR. I want you to set them up for me.”
Well it wasn’t big. I could only really charge the usual $25 to plug in and tune her equipment for her, but it was a start.
“Sure Mrs. W, but it has to be cash this time. Take the $25 now and put it in an envelope.”
I nearly shit when she said her next words.
“How much for a cable installation, Andrew?”
Ch-ching!! A cable install was worth; you guessed it, a glorious $75. I was out of jail!!
“Well, all up it will be a hundred dollars. I have to stress that I need a cash payment of the full amount at the end of the job. I’ve got a new competitor and I have to keep on top of my accounts.”
“Yes Andrew, I understand completely. Mr. Walker has authorised me to have you do this and has already given me the money.”
“All right Mrs. W. I’ll be there at 12.30p.m. tomorrow. Put the money in a safe place.”
She hung up and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I knew that I wasn’t going to make my fortune in the first year. The trick was to stay afloat long enough to establish a good clientele and then the money would start to improve. With this last minute job for Mrs. Walker, I would be able to keep going. I left feeling as if a great weight had been lifted.
In the van on the way to the Walker house, I had a moment of uneasiness. What if she pulled the same trick again? A suck and a titty-fuck wasn’t going to pay old Rutherford his pound of flesh. I relaxed a little when I thought of how definite I had been with her that this was a cash job to be paid immediately. With this in mind, I drove into her driveway, got out with my tool kit and knocked on the door.
She answered in the same red velvet top from our first meeting and a tight black skirt that did wonders for her. Her legs were covered in black-seamed hold-up stockings. Schwing!! But I was here to work. She led me (with the now familiar butt-wobbles) into the rumpus room and signalled me to go ahead. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs. I saw the briefest flash of panty as she did so.
The work took about an hour and a half. Mrs. W brought me lemonade when I came down from the manhole. I fixed the junction box to accept the cable transmission, and then set up the new TV and peripherals. Tuning up didn’t take long and I got her to fill out the form for the cable company authorising my sub-contractors licence. Gathering up my toolbox and the left over lengths of coaxial cables, I told her I would take them out to the van, have a smoke, then come back and write up her bill and take the payment.
She had agreed to this and I went outside. I sparked up a Marlboro and punched Rutherford’s number into my mobile phone. He answered on the second ring.