Rent Boy

by James Anthony Ford

  It had gotten to the point that Sharon and I had a love hate relationship. She loved my work but hated my guts. I just hated her guts which is a shame as she and I could have had a very good professional relationship. I think I brought it upon myself and my selfish and stubborn attitude that was taking control of me. I was trying so hard to cover up my depression and anxiety inside me. I was suffering inside but I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t realise I had a mental health issue but it was getting worse and worse. Unfortunately my moodiness affected my relationships with people but I didn’t realise it.

  She has said some cruel things to me in private which I never told anyone about. Who would believe me anyway? I had also encountered some advances from Sharon on a couple of occasions as I would consider sexual advances. On Fridays we had casual Friday’s meaning that we all had the opportunity to wear casual clothes. So I just wore jeans and a t-shirt. As I had quite a well-toned athletic body my biceps and chest kind of bulged through my t-shirt. On a few occasions Sharon would just casually walk up to me and just ask me a question whilst I was sitting at my desk and then as she was talking to me she would kind of rub her hand on my chest or biceps. It was a bit of a real ‘feel’ of the muscles, not just a touch, and it was not accidental either. I never reported it or said anything. It didn’t really bother me but I thought if it kept on happening I would have to report it. However it was a ‘catch 22’. Everyone there hated me so if I made such a complaint it would be my word against hers. So why bother? They would always support Sharon, not me.

  I also discovered that there were quite a few homophobic staff members in the department. One day as I was walking out of the men’s bathroom I am sure I heard someone say ‘fag!’. Over time though I found that people started to dislike me. I didn’t understand it. I never did anything to upset anyone. Perhaps they were just jealous of my success in my work. But I think there was more meaning to it and I think Sharon had a part in it. You see, within this company, rumours were form of strong and effective communication. There were assumptions started about me. Some of things were that I was apparently a ‘drug addict’, ‘a manic depressive’. I also heard a rumour that I was working as a prostitute. I really can’t find anyone to blame for who started all these rumours as I have no proof, but really, I don’t care.

  As time went on I began to hate the place. But really, I began to hate the world and everyone in it. As time went on I found more and more difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Some mornings I would awake with intense body aches and pains and intense bouts of complete and utter depression and I don’t know why. I kept ignoring it and thought it was just a phase I was going through, perhaps it was work stress, so I never said anything about what I was going through. Not even to my own mother. I loved my job but I hated my manager for the way she monitored my every move like a policewoman on a mission to get at me and hated everyone else that worked here. They were a bunch of cruel gossiping losers. So I started to lose my cool on several occasions. I couldn’t help it. Sharon made me so angry sometimes that it was like she was doing this on purpose to aggravate me. So I would go into a complete rage and start throwing things around and punching the computer. I would have uncontrollable brain snaps. And each and every time, Sharon would take me into that same room and start yelling at me giving yet again another verbal warning. But I think she had, had enough. I was going too far. But I think the reality was that she was actually going too far. She was pushing the envelope. She was heavily monitoring my every move, every phone call made, she was looking for any slight error in order to scald me. She enjoyed and she wanted to see me suffer. She didn’t want to sack me though, that would be too easy. She found some sadistic way in wanting to flex her authority in front of me. I became her plaything as she I had a weakness to retaliate. Everyone else was terrified by not doing things by protocol, that it was usually me getting into strife. I didn’t care though; I have had enough of office gossip and corporate bullshit. In fact I have had enough of life in general and it was the first time I had thought of that. I couldn’t believe I said it to myself. I”I have had enough of life”. What did this mean?

  It had gotten to the point where I had come to some kind of end. There were day I would look at myself in the mirror and feel sick to my stomach. I saw myself as ugly, completely hideous. I kept asking myself, where did that hot-bodied, cute party boy go? I was getting older and feeling very unattractive. I hated looking myself in the mirror. All I saw was a dirty diseased human being. The reality of the ‘fact’ had hit me like a ton of bricks and I said it to myself out aloud. “I am HIV positive”. It killed me to say it to myself. I was no longer living in denial. I had to take control of my life now and not ignore my HIV status. I had to start learning to deal with it and accept it. But I couldn’t. I felt as though my life was coming to an end so I started to dwell on my HIV status, my abuse as a child and all the hurt from previous relationships. I fell into the deepest darkest depression imaginable. I was sick. But there was no denying it anymore. My health was starting to take its toll, I was in massive credit card debt and my depression was getting worse. My life had suddenly went on pause. I needed help and fast. As much as I was confused about why I was felling the way I was I was so curious about what was going on with my mind and body. As the saying goes “Curiosity killed the cat”, but in my case it was my “Personality that killed the cat”. I was headed for trouble and it was about to get deadly.

  Chapter fifteen............Punishment

  Another day, another dollar, as the saying goes. I thrived for excellence at work but I became so focussed on just getting the sale rather than providing quality customer service to my clients. It was at this stage that I just didn’t care anymore about the actual job and our duty as loyal representatives to the company, I just wanted to get that allusive sale and get the recognition for it. It was like I was seeking attention more than anything. Unfortunately for me, there were a few other reps that were way better than me at our jobs. I started to sleek down from the number one sales rep in the team slowly down to the bottom. My boss, Sharon, gave me the benefit of the doubt and knew that there was something going on with me but never really said anything to me. I think she was waiting for me to ask for help. My job stats began to plummet including my sales figures. Higher management started to take notice and kept an eye on me. They thought I didn’t know how they were policing me, but I’m not stupid, I knew. I knew that every phone call, every email, every move I made, they were watching me like a hawk. I began to feel the heat and I was bottling it up inside.

  There were some mornings, particularly if I had a gym workout or karate practice the night before, that I just could not get out of bed. Literally. My body ached from head to toe and my mind was running a hundred miles an hour with stress and anxiety. It was at times unbearable. So of course I would call into work sick. Sick leave at this company was not looked upon very favourably as firstly we had a limited sick leave allowance and secondly it was this sort of job that you simply could not afford to take a sick day as you would get behind in your own workload. You see, every reps workload, or list of client accounts, were designed with the assumption that you were to take no sick leave. So one sick day and your workload would suffer. You just get behind and more behind and more behind. Then stressed and more stressed. Everything was about time and time was money. But from my first day, it simply led to another sick day, then another. Then I would return to work feeling better. I was very good with time management and multi-tasking and was very, very organised so catching up for me was not really an issue but the stress caught up with me. It just made me feel sicker.

  After a few days or so my boss would notice that I was getting behind in my workload so once again I was taken to ‘the office’ for the ‘private chat’. I hated those chats. It was in these chats where ‘she’, was supposed to diplomatically discuss your performance or lack of it and try to come to some sort of resolution. I got sick and tired of her telling me off and trying
to show her authority all the time. So I bit back and she didn’t like it telling me I had an attitude problem. And perhaps I did, but I didn’t care.

  So another day in the office and once again taken to ‘the room’ for ‘the chat’. She was deliberately monitoring everything I did. For example, we all had our phone calls to clients monitored for service quality assessment and Sharon always found something that I did wrong. She loved it. She loved grilling me in that room. The reason? It gave her power. But it is true; she did have authority over me, but power? I don’t think so; I was not going to let her get the better of me. Not this little black duck. I began to hate her with a passion. I think it was mutual. She didn’t really respect her staff; she just wanted to work us to death so she would get that ‘top manager of the year award’ with a free trip to Paris. That was the reality. She couldn’t care less about us. She got off on her authority. I hate that fact. Not that I hated having a boss, I could handle that. It was the way she handled her staff and ‘Nazi-like’ attitude if you apparently did something wrong. She had no tact, she just wanted to ‘flex her flabby muscles’ and tell you whose boss. It started to drive me crazy. And so were the rumours flying around about me. There were all sorts of shit going around about my so called ‘bad attitude’. Everyone was so cold towards me. The fact is, I never really hurt anyone there, and they all brought it upon themselves.

  Day after day I literally had to drag myself out of bed and face another. “Oh god, how am I going to handle this again?” was my immediate reaction. I remember the time I used to jump out of bed like a spring, open the blinds and got a natural high from seeing the first rays of sunshine. This was no more. I was dreading another day of being pressured at work and I don’t think I could handle another day of peoples shit and Sharon’s bossy-like attitude. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I felt ill just thinking about it. But I would make it into work. I tried so hard to do the right thing and just shut my mouth. “Just shut James and do your job and go home” I would constantly tell myself all day long. But as I sat at my desk I could hear whispering and chatting behind the cubicle barriers saying all sorts of stuff about me and giggling. I could not really understand what exactly they were saying but perhaps this was my paranoia setting it. I don’t really know. All I do know is that my mind was feeling like it was about to explode. But I knew for a fact that there were a lot of rumours circulating about me around the office. Some of them like I was a ‘fag’ or I was a ‘drug addict’. Everyone avoided me. I would into the office kitchen and a small group sitting at a table eating their lunch and chatting would leave when I sat down. I felt rejected, like I was an outcast. Nobody liked me and I didn’t understand why. I know that I sometimes gave the impression that I had a slight attitude but it was only to those who displayed that attitude to me first. I never was the instigator. There were also rumours about me cheating at work and stealing peoples advertising proposals, which was complete bullshit. Another thing which baffled me was that I always dressed well for work. And I mean WELL. I always wore a Gucci or Versace suit and always looked top notch. A lot of the guys hated me for that. That was obviously a jealousy thing but that’s their problem.

  Quite often if I walk down a corridor some guy in the department, who I have never even met, mind you, would deliberately brush past me and sarcastically say ‘Oh sorry mate!”. I felt like punching the shit out of him but I knew I had to control myself as I was already walking on eggshells. Once false move and I would lose my job, and lose my future career which is what really was driving me. I kept telling myself that all this shit I was going through with work would pass and it was just a phase. But it was just getting worse as the days went on. So did my sickness. So there goes another sick day ticked off.

  I return to work after two days sick leave. My body was no longer aching and I actually felt quite positive. In fact I was happy to return to work. I gave myself a new attitude to strive to get what I want out of life and best the best at what I do. So took with me to work a picture of a big gold dollar sign and stuck on top of my computer at work. This was to fact me all day whilst I was in front of the computer so I would be constantly reminded that I was hungry for sales, hungry for money and to just go for it. My boss Sharon looked quite impressed. But Sharon that day had plans for me which I had no idea about. During the morning tea break I decided to just work through it as I wanted to desperately catch up with my workload. I actually happen to have an acute sense of hearing and can hear everything, even from afar. I heard a bunch of guys on the other side of my desk cubicle laughing and giggling about the gold dollar sign I put on top of my desk. I heard the words ‘wanker’ and ‘loser’ and so on along with their evil sounding laughs. It was almost like they deliberately wanted me to hear what they were saying. Everyone knew that I was kept an eye on by management so any false move by me and that would be it. Everyone took every advantage to try and upset me. They really got off on it, the bunch of fucking losers! I tried to ignore it and did.

  I had noticed that Sharon had put her headset on every time I made a phone call to a client. That was a sign that she was monitoring my calls, it was obvious. I hated it but everyone had to go through the same protocol. Somehow Sharon seemed to monitor my calls more than anyone else. I guess management were getting suspicious of how and why i was getting so many sales so they wanted to tap into my advertising proposals I did over the phone. But I didn’t care, the reality is, everything I did was legitimate. Was it just too hard to believe that maybe I was actually good at my job? I was! You just could not win with this company. If you had bad sales results, you get written warning, which they loved to do, or the sack. If you did too well and got a lot of sales they would question it. What a load of crap!

  Anyway later in the day it was about 3 in the afternoon and I must admit as I worked my guts out that day I was getting a little exhausted and feeling a bit stressed. But I tried not to let it show towards other staff or especially my customers. I had to call one of my clients who happened to be some psychiatrist. The advertising account he had with us was quite substantial. He had a psychiatric private practice and had been advertising with our company for years. But this was the first time I was to have contact with him. So after I did my usual research and proposal prep as we called it. This was simply just a bit of written research we did in relation to the current adverting he has, the media he is projecting his brand from and style, target market and so on. Along with that we had to prepare a range of relevant questions which was a business needs analysis to find out from the client their need for advertising and our recommendation to achieve their goals. It was a very streamlined and professional approach we had and it was uniform amongst all the sales reps in the company. The company took great pride in our approach to customer service I have to admit. So anyway, I called the point of contact for the psychiatric practice and spoke to the ‘man in charge’, who will remain nameless for privacy reasons. “Good after noon Sir, my name is James Ford and I am calling you from your advertising company and was hoping we can discuss your advertising needs for your next advertising plan” I said in a professional and assertive tone. He just paused for a second and said “What?....you bastards!....all you want from me if money and every time I want something done you always get it wrong so you can fuck off!” he gasped in a very rude tone. I was quite shocked and offended especially that fact that this guy was supposed to be a psychiatrist. But I retained my professionalism and persevered. “Well, I’m sorry about the past mistakes you may have encountered in the past, but as your new media solutions manager I am sure we can come to some sort of agreement....”I said in an even tone before he interrupted me. “Well, first of all, J-A-Y, or whatever your name is!.....I don’t give a shit about what you want, all I want is a simple ad that is not going to be overpriced like it normally is and secondly I want it done properly which I find that hard to believe as you are all incompetent imbeciles” he yelled sarcastically. I took a deep breath then looked over my shoulder and noticed Sharon h
ad her headset on. She was listening to my call, like she always did to me more than any of my other work colleagues. I had to control it otherwise I would be in deep shit. This guy was going to be very difficult. Then he just went on and on about how much he hated the company and how incompetent we were and how every year we apparently never do the advertising to his standards and requests and blah, blah, blah. I couldn’t get a word in. But we had been trained that in these situations where you get a frustrated customer and you just let them vent their anger until they finish. He went on for 20 bloody minutes, non-stop! Finally he paused and I could get a chance to speak. I said “Sir, I understand your frustration.....”, then he interrupted me again and yelled “No you bloody don’t, you don’t understand anything and you don’t care about your customer!” “That’s not true sir, I’m am actually trying to help you and I can assure you that I will everything in my power to try and rectify any problem you have had in the past and.....” Then he interrupted me again by screaming “You know fuck all!”. I was starting to lose patience as he was one tough cookie yet not even giving me an opportunity to help him. After all, it was some other idiot sales rep last year that stuffed up this advertising portfolio and now i am stuck with the shit. It was all just not fair. In fact it seemed that this year I was pounded with a lot of stuffed up client accounts that I had to rectify with nasty clients. No one else seemed to have many complaints. I had the most. This was not right. But this guy I was trying to negotiate with took the cake. He was just a pure insult to me and to the company I was representing. I saw myself as an ambassador for the company and tried to portray my company in a good light, even though I had my doubts about the way they managed the company; it was just a professional thing to do. Then the nasty psychiatrist started to get personal. I could feel Sharon monitoring my call with angst just waiting for me to stuff up by either giving out incorrect information or god forbid, be rude back to the customer. By rights, it was actually policy that if a customer’s verbally abuses up in any way we had the right to hand up on them. But it had to be within reason and if we ever did that we had to have a bloody good reason otherwise, yes you guessed it, you would receive the one and only written warning. The company loved giving those out. It just gave themselves confirmation that they were the boss, it was pathetic but there was no avoiding it if you got one. Then the psychiatrist, as mentioned, got personal and started to insult me. “You couldn’t care less about your customers, all you do is sit behind a computer with a stupid earpiece on, you probably went to a public school and didn’t go to university, in fact you probably haven’t even got an education.....” he went on sarcastically. This took the cake. I could not stand being insulted like this. I was just waiting for him to start using profanities so I could hang up. Then he said “All you are James, or whatever your faggotty name is, is a loser with no future.....” That was it, I barked back. “Well, SIR, you obviously are not displaying your so-called psychiatric degree with me by tone you are using, and by the way, how dare you speak to me in that manner!”. Sharon said ‘Right!, that’s it!”, took her head set off and slammed it down on her desk and walked over to me and said. “I want you to tell the customer you will call him back !...do it, now!” she demanded as I was speaking to the customers. So I did. Then she yelled “Come with me!” and I followed. I knew what I was in for next.