Missing the course

I’m about to set off to run the second day of a course here in Germany, with one additional participant in the audience compared to yesterday.

See, about five minutes after we were due to start day one, a young lady appeared breathless in the room. “Hi. I’m E—-. I’m supposed to be here today, but I’m really sorry: I have to finish a document and send it out to the customer by this afternoon. I’m so sorry. I did try and call the training department on my way in, but… Anyway, is that OK?”

My answer: “Of course: client work has to take priority. Thank you so much for coming and letting me know. Good luck with the document, and we’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

My preferred reply, given that she really was extremely cute and so very apologetic: “So you’ve not managed your time properly; you’ve inconvenienced your fellow delegates; you’ve wasted the money your company’s spent on your training; and you’ve arrived here late this morning and kept us all waiting?”

I spent the rest of the day’s course pondering whether I’d have pulled out a chair and put her over my knees, or whether I’d have taken off my belt and made her bend over the conference room table. Her “please, sir, not in front of the others” would have been entirely ignored; her shudder of shame as I lowered her knickers would have evoked no sympathy. And afterwards, as she cried, I’d have made her stand bare-bottomed facing the wall next to the screen on which my slides were projected as I talked through the opening material – until her sobs subsided and I felt she’d recovered her composure  sufficiently to be allowed to head back to her office.

If I’m distracted during the course today, you now know why… Thinking of which: damn, I need to get ready to go to the client’s office. Have a nice day, everyone; I certainly intend to!