“Them bitches in Atlanta gots me all fucked up! AOL Time Warner can kiss the blackest part of my ass! Kimberly, Jerome, Pamela, Aisha, and Lani , get y’all asses in here!”
The group filtered into the office one by one.
“Take y’all time,” Laquisha told them.
The group seated themselves in various chairs arrayed around the office.
“First off, what the hell is this?” Laquisha asked, tossing some papers to Lani. “This is supposed to be a tug-at-your-heart piece about Haitian immigrants coming across the water in shoddy makeshift life rafts. Instead, I get a technical piece about immigration and the courts, and the legal challenges facing the Haitian immigrants. Try again.”
Laquisha wheeled, and turned toward Aisha. “And you! You’re supposed to be my fashion writer, but the only articles you’ve been sending me, have been dealing with the business of fashion, and not the clothing itself! I know you want to move over to what you consider more serious writer pursuits, but for right now, you work for Mocha as a fashion writer. So write about some damn fashion!”
“And you!” Laquisha shouted, turning toward Kimberly. “Why I get a call from the Benz dealership, asking if your ass was alright? What the hell is wrong with you? What did you go down there and pull? You were too sick to close a deal that was basically in the bag? I’ll bet your ass won’t be too sick to walk in here and pick up your damn paycheck on Friday, will you? This is some straight up bullshit!”
“And you!” she shouted, turning toward Jerome. “Your little fairy ass fucked up my Army contract, flirting with the fucking ad specialist! They requested that I send someone else!”
“Someone else!” Jerome shouted. “That bastard! He didn’t want someone else when he was trying to get into my panties!”
“ Drawers , Jerome!” Laquisha shouted. “You wear fucking drawers ! You’re a man !”
Jerome shrugged. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Laquisha through her pen up in the air and rolled her eyes. “Why did I walk into that one?”
“What did I do?” Pamela asked.
“Actually, nothing,” Laquisha told her. “But I just didn’t want you to feel left out. Since I have nothing to yell at you about, I’ll just say this. Keep on getting my paper!”
Laquisha ran her hand across her sweaty brow, clearing away the perspiration that she had worked up. She drew in a deep breath, calming herself before continuing. “Now, the reason I called you all in here, is because I have to send some of you to the fashion show in The Hamptons this weekend. Naturally, I’m going to send my least fucked up people. Pam, you and Kim go and work the crowd for accounts, and Lani and Aisha, you go and cover the show for the magazine. I’m sending Pezo to take the photographs for us. His shots, plus whatever we’re able to buy from the freelancers should cover us pretty good.”
“Are we staying in The Hamptons?” Kimberly asked.
“What do you mean?” Laquisha asked.
“Is Mocha paying for us to stay in The Hamptons?” Kimberly clarified.
“Is the Pope Baptist?” Laquisha cackled. “Hell no, Mocha ain’t paying for you to stay in the damn Hamptons.
“Why can’t I go?” Jerome pleaded.
“Because you’re on my shit list right now!” Laquisha shouted. “Look, I want some good shit outta this weekend. I want great photos, fantastic stories, and a lot of fucking ad sales. Do y’all got that?”
Nods went around the room.
“Traditionally, this show has been a big producer for us, and it’s always given us a boost in magazine sales,” Laquisha told them. “I want that tradition to continue. So let’s get out there and get it done.”
“Laquisha, one question,” Lani said, rising from her seat.
“Yeah?”
“What kinda human interest story am I going to get from The Hampton’s fashion show?”
“I
The group filtered into the office one by one.
“Take y’all time,” Laquisha told them.
The group seated themselves in various chairs arrayed around the office.
“First off, what the hell is this?” Laquisha asked, tossing some papers to Lani. “This is supposed to be a tug-at-your-heart piece about Haitian immigrants coming across the water in shoddy makeshift life rafts. Instead, I get a technical piece about immigration and the courts, and the legal challenges facing the Haitian immigrants. Try again.”
Laquisha wheeled, and turned toward Aisha. “And you! You’re supposed to be my fashion writer, but the only articles you’ve been sending me, have been dealing with the business of fashion, and not the clothing itself! I know you want to move over to what you consider more serious writer pursuits, but for right now, you work for Mocha as a fashion writer. So write about some damn fashion!”
“And you!” Laquisha shouted, turning toward Kimberly. “Why I get a call from the Benz dealership, asking if your ass was alright? What the hell is wrong with you? What did you go down there and pull? You were too sick to close a deal that was basically in the bag? I’ll bet your ass won’t be too sick to walk in here and pick up your damn paycheck on Friday, will you? This is some straight up bullshit!”
“And you!” she shouted, turning toward Jerome. “Your little fairy ass fucked up my Army contract, flirting with the fucking ad specialist! They requested that I send someone else!”
“Someone else!” Jerome shouted. “That bastard! He didn’t want someone else when he was trying to get into my panties!”
“ Drawers , Jerome!” Laquisha shouted. “You wear fucking drawers ! You’re a man !”
Jerome shrugged. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Laquisha through her pen up in the air and rolled her eyes. “Why did I walk into that one?”
“What did I do?” Pamela asked.
“Actually, nothing,” Laquisha told her. “But I just didn’t want you to feel left out. Since I have nothing to yell at you about, I’ll just say this. Keep on getting my paper!”
Laquisha ran her hand across her sweaty brow, clearing away the perspiration that she had worked up. She drew in a deep breath, calming herself before continuing. “Now, the reason I called you all in here, is because I have to send some of you to the fashion show in The Hamptons this weekend. Naturally, I’m going to send my least fucked up people. Pam, you and Kim go and work the crowd for accounts, and Lani and Aisha, you go and cover the show for the magazine. I’m sending Pezo to take the photographs for us. His shots, plus whatever we’re able to buy from the freelancers should cover us pretty good.”
“Are we staying in The Hamptons?” Kimberly asked.
“What do you mean?” Laquisha asked.
“Is Mocha paying for us to stay in The Hamptons?” Kimberly clarified.
“Is the Pope Baptist?” Laquisha cackled. “Hell no, Mocha ain’t paying for you to stay in the damn Hamptons.
“Why can’t I go?” Jerome pleaded.
“Because you’re on my shit list right now!” Laquisha shouted. “Look, I want some good shit outta this weekend. I want great photos, fantastic stories, and a lot of fucking ad sales. Do y’all got that?”
Nods went around the room.
“Traditionally, this show has been a big producer for us, and it’s always given us a boost in magazine sales,” Laquisha told them. “I want that tradition to continue. So let’s get out there and get it done.”
“Laquisha, one question,” Lani said, rising from her seat.
“Yeah?”
“What kinda human interest story am I going to get from The Hampton’s fashion show?”
“I
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