The CEO(Anthony Colombo) The CEO

The CEO is a story. It’s a story because I made the whole thing up, or did I? We are in the twenty-fifth floor office of the chief executive of a major oil company and you will be privileged to overhear a very sensitive conversation.

The scene is a very lavishly furnished corner office. It has floor to ceiling windows that look out over Central Park. Our CEO is sitting behind his very large mahogany desk. On the desktop near the left corner is a Gold desk lamp, a gold pen set mounted on a polished mahogany desk set located near the middle of the desk, and a gold frame of our CEO’s wife wrapped in a very expensive real ermine fur located near the right-hand corner of the desk. In the center of the desk just in front of Mr. CEO is the desk pad with polished gold end caps. Seated behind the desk is our slightly overweight CEO. He has his feet on the desk pad. He has an expensive cigar in his mouth puffing smoke rings and watching them rise to the ceiling. He is dressed in navy colored silk slacks with a white silk shirt and a red silk tie. The French cuffs are held together by solid gold cuff links. Around his neck hangs a 1/8 inch diameter gold rope chain, and on his left wrist is a fifty thousand dollar gold watch.

He looks deep in thought, and then says, “Miss Bloom, get in here, I need you!” Through a set of mahogany double doors, nearly twelve feet high, strolls a beautiful, and the word beautiful doesn’t do her justice, blonde about nineteen. Her clothes come from Sacks Fifth Avenue, and no they aren’t off the rack, her blouse and matching skirt are handmade. Now, I have to tell you that whoever the man was that took her measurements was the luckiest person in the world.

Anyway, as she walked through the door she was starting to unbutton her blouse. Mr. CEO said, “No Miss Bloom. I don’t want that. I need to talk to you and pick your brain for a change,” and almost as an afterthought he added, “We can do the other thing later.”

Miss Bloom buttoned up one of the undone buttons and said, “What then can I do for you?”

“Well Miss Bloom, it’s been a couple of months since we raised the price of gas and I think it’s time we did something about that don’t you?”

“Oh, BO,” Miss Bloom called him BO because it was short for boss, “everybody is complaining about the last rise in gas cost. I don’t know how this will go over with congress, the president, the media or the public in general.”

“Miss Bloom, Miss Bloom, Honey buttons, you worry too much. First, the public will bitch, that’s a given, but they are so tied to their cars that that is all they will do as they pump even more gas. Then the media, there is no problem at all. TV news will report what we tell them. They love to hear there is a revolt in some godforsaken jungle town somewhere with a name no one ever heard of. Plus all we have to do is buy a little more air time telling the world how well the gulf is doing after our last oil spill. And as far as the pollution,” started BO but was cut off by Miss Bloom.

"Don’t you mean the politicians, BO?”

“Sweetie, it’s all the same when it comes to them, 'garbage in garbage out.' The end result is still the same thing, garbage, and no they aren’t a problem either. I’ll call what’s his name Brain-berg or something like that and remind him he is coming up for reelection. A little chunk of loose change in his campaign fund and he will do what ever I want. OH, Yeah, that reminds me that moron in the White House is talking about cutting our tax deferments. Get a hold of Brain-boom and remind him of all our cost we have to deal with in research and development. That should shut the door on tax cuts for another year. Ah, I can see the wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours. Yes we need a gimmick.”

“You know Bo, that speculator thing is still big in the news,” said Miss Bloom.

“Honey, you just earned a bonus for that. Now you need to get me a speculator and fast.”

Just then Sam Shove-it, the custodian, was pushing his cart past the open doors of BO's office and Miss Bloom yelled, “Sam come in here for a minute.”

Sam stopped and leaving his cart in the hall stepped into the spacious office. He only came a few feet in and stopped as if he were an uninvited trespasser in Heaven. He had his hands clasped in front of him with his eyes staring at the floor. Miss Bloom said, “Sam it’s alright we need your opinion about something that’s all.”

“Oh, sure thing Miss Bloom, what can I do for you? All you have to do is tell me and it’s yours.”

“Sam all I need is for you to listen to the boss and tell him what you think. Is that OK?” asked Miss Bloom.

“Sure Miss Bloom. Anything you need,” responded Sam with a stained toothy grin.

“Sam,” started the CEO, “I would like your opinion on a topic near and dear to my heart, the price of gas.”

“Well Mr. BO, its them people in the east ain’t it now,” said Sam.

“Are you talking about the Middle East, the people in OPEC,” asked the CEO.

“Yes sir, them people over there. They is always playing with the cost of oil. They one time raise the price then they lower it and the next thing they got it higher than it was before. They is the ones that is making all the trouble for us here,” stuttered Sam.

“Well Sam, if I understand you, we are looking at higher cost in the future, is that correct?” asked the CEO.

“Yes sir I think that is what I am saying,” said Sam.

“Thank you Sam. You are doing a fine job. Keep up the good work and I’ll see about getting you something nice for all the good things you do here,” and with a backward wave of his hand the CEO dismisses Sam who backs respectfully out of the office.

“Well there you have it Miss Bloom. The speculators are at it again. Our backs are to the wall. It isn’t our fault. We have no choice. We will just have to raise the price of gas again just to keep our heads above water. OK, so the water is in the Caribbean, but hell you can drown there too can’t you,” asked the CEO with a smirk on his face. And, with that settled he said, “Now, Miss Bloom we can take care of that other thing,” grinning from ear to ear.

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