When she is busy, she always says she is tied up. When she can’t affect an outcome, she always says her hands are tied. When she can’t find the right words, she always says she is tongue-tied.
You would then assume that her favorite laundry detergent would be Tide but you’d be wrong. It’s Cheer, because in high school she used to be a cheerleader.
Typically, high school cheerleaders go on to be either captains of industry or prostitutes.
April went down the path of the latter. Her specialty was B&D (bondage and discipline). What I find somewhat disturbing is that such a large percentage of you did not need B&D defined. You read B&D and said to yourself “B&D… got it.”
Freaks.
Her financial advisor was one of her regular clients so he wasn’t particularly surprised at her unwillingness to invest in anything but bonds. “I like my money like I like my evenings: restrained,” she would say. His efforts to get her to diversify fell on deaf ears. Even when she was on the clock, be it a box-tie, over-arm tie or reverse prayer, his various precious metals presentations were all for naught.
And then one night, when April found herself in a particularly erotic frog-tie, he tried a different tact.
She was fit to be tied. “Not again. Not now!” she snapped dismissively.
“A stock,” he began, “is a share of a public company which entitles the holder to a fixed dividend, whose payment takes priority over that of common-stock dividends.”
She struggled helplessly and for a moment, he wished that he’d left some of her clothes on so he could concentrate. Trying to remain as composed as possible, he pressed on. He felt obligated.
“With the right information at your disposal and a complete understanding of how much risk you are willing to expose yourself to, stocks are an outstanding investment.”
“This is how you want to squander your time? I’m on the clock you know,” she said. “... and you want to counsel me on how I spend my money?”
“I’m sure you know this April, but perhaps it’s not occurred to you in this context. Stock has another meaning.”
She looked up at him.
“Stocks are also medieval restraining devices that were used as a form of corporal punishment and public humiliation.”
At the word punishment, he saw a small shiver run down her. All the way down, from head to toe. Not an inch escaped it. Barely noticeable and yet worth every dime. One shudder worth a thousand words.
He approached her and whispered in her ear, “I want you…” and then finally, “to diversify.”
She looked away and her breathing began to get ragged.
“Bonds are good April. We both love bonds. But it’s time to broaden our horizons. I need you April… to take a look at stocks.”
His face was inches from her. She began to writhe.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded.
“Say it. I need you to say it. Say yes.”
Eventually she looked up at him and said, “Yes.”
“Great!” he said, clapped once and casually strolled away from her. “I will send over some suggestions for your portfolio in the morning. Mostly blue chips with a few potential growth stocks. I think you’ll be happy.”
She sighed a sigh that was equal part whimper and said “I am.”
He looked back at her. “Good. Now, where were we?”