Post by Varden on Dec 29, 2013 15:48:54 GMT -5
[The following scene takes place in the living room. There are large French doors leading outside to a spacious deck. The furnishings are simple but very expensive. A large, furry white rug stretches across the length of the room. The walls are painted a light grayish blue, made paler by the white sunlight filtering in through the curtains.]
I'm sitting on a long gray sofa, sipping from a martini and studying a sketch, when I hear four distinct knocks on my front door.
"Come in!" I call, setting the drink down on the glass coffee table.
"Hey." Without turning around, I can tell it's Alda, my business partner and best friend.
"Do you want a drink?" I ask, and hand it back to her without waiting for a reply.
"Thanks," she says, and takes a seat next to me.
"So what's up?" I hold out the sketch to her. "I was thinking about trying this for a new dress. Maybe have it in blue, maroon and...goldenrod, or something like that."
She wrinkles her nose. "Nobody looks good in goldenrod, Var. How about more of a daffodil-ish shade instead?"
I take the sketch back. "Maybe. I have a good feeling about goldenrod, though."
"Well, you're supposed to be the smart one here," she says with a shrug. "I'm only human. Anyway, I didn't come here to discuss dresses. I wanted to propose a business plan to you."
Oh, boy. Here we go again. Listen, I don't want to be cocky, but Alda was right when she said I'm supposed to be the smart one. 80% of her "business plans" I reject right off the bat. 19% I let through because I feel badly saying no so much, and because business is good enough that losing a little money won't exactly kill us. The other 1% consists of an idea she had to have one blouse come in pastel pink, which I was going to do anyway but let her take the credit for.
"Yes?" I say, putting on my friendliest and open-minded-looking smile.
"We're doing really well here, right?"
I nod.
"So, who's to say that we couldn't do well somewhere else? I'm not talking about somewhere like Ortheng. I mean like Deguf. They're always looking for new fashion to wear to the Mors Arena, right? I mean, based on the pictures in the paper. We could do really well there!" She stands there, slightly nervous, waiting for my response.
I don't answer right away. This idea, I already know, is going to be added to her 1% of good ones. I have thought of it before, but never seriously considered it, but not because it's not a great idea. Because it is. I just don't like change. Opening a new location in some other country would mean one of us would have to go over there to supervise it. And even though I don't always think that Alda has the best ideas, she and I have shared a lot together, and I don't want to be separate from her. She does a lot of things better than I do, and I really appreciate her. Like for example, she's a lot better at compassion than I am. So I decide to just go out and be honest with her and tell me why the notion bothers me.
"That's true," I begin slowly. "But one of us will have to go manage it."
"Just for a little while," she says eagerly, glad that I'm going along with it, "and then we could find someone else there to take care of it."
I hadn't thought of that. I probably would have, if I would have given the idea any thought at all previously, but...that was a good point. And I think it counted as another idea. Maybe Alda was up to 1.5% now. (This sounds so condescending; people always say that about us. "Meldi are all so arrogant!" We don't mean to be. It's just sometimes difficult to express how it feels being able to think at a higher level than anyone else. Please be patient with me.)
"Well, that's a good point," I answer. "So which one of us would go to start it off?"
"You," Alda says instantly. "I don't think I'd be able to really replicate the nature of this company. You would. You should be the one to go."
I pick up my martini again and take another sip. "I'll think about it."
I'm sitting on a long gray sofa, sipping from a martini and studying a sketch, when I hear four distinct knocks on my front door.
"Come in!" I call, setting the drink down on the glass coffee table.
"Hey." Without turning around, I can tell it's Alda, my business partner and best friend.
"Do you want a drink?" I ask, and hand it back to her without waiting for a reply.
"Thanks," she says, and takes a seat next to me.
"So what's up?" I hold out the sketch to her. "I was thinking about trying this for a new dress. Maybe have it in blue, maroon and...goldenrod, or something like that."
She wrinkles her nose. "Nobody looks good in goldenrod, Var. How about more of a daffodil-ish shade instead?"
I take the sketch back. "Maybe. I have a good feeling about goldenrod, though."
"Well, you're supposed to be the smart one here," she says with a shrug. "I'm only human. Anyway, I didn't come here to discuss dresses. I wanted to propose a business plan to you."
Oh, boy. Here we go again. Listen, I don't want to be cocky, but Alda was right when she said I'm supposed to be the smart one. 80% of her "business plans" I reject right off the bat. 19% I let through because I feel badly saying no so much, and because business is good enough that losing a little money won't exactly kill us. The other 1% consists of an idea she had to have one blouse come in pastel pink, which I was going to do anyway but let her take the credit for.
"Yes?" I say, putting on my friendliest and open-minded-looking smile.
"We're doing really well here, right?"
I nod.
"So, who's to say that we couldn't do well somewhere else? I'm not talking about somewhere like Ortheng. I mean like Deguf. They're always looking for new fashion to wear to the Mors Arena, right? I mean, based on the pictures in the paper. We could do really well there!" She stands there, slightly nervous, waiting for my response.
I don't answer right away. This idea, I already know, is going to be added to her 1% of good ones. I have thought of it before, but never seriously considered it, but not because it's not a great idea. Because it is. I just don't like change. Opening a new location in some other country would mean one of us would have to go over there to supervise it. And even though I don't always think that Alda has the best ideas, she and I have shared a lot together, and I don't want to be separate from her. She does a lot of things better than I do, and I really appreciate her. Like for example, she's a lot better at compassion than I am. So I decide to just go out and be honest with her and tell me why the notion bothers me.
"That's true," I begin slowly. "But one of us will have to go manage it."
"Just for a little while," she says eagerly, glad that I'm going along with it, "and then we could find someone else there to take care of it."
I hadn't thought of that. I probably would have, if I would have given the idea any thought at all previously, but...that was a good point. And I think it counted as another idea. Maybe Alda was up to 1.5% now. (This sounds so condescending; people always say that about us. "Meldi are all so arrogant!" We don't mean to be. It's just sometimes difficult to express how it feels being able to think at a higher level than anyone else. Please be patient with me.)
"Well, that's a good point," I answer. "So which one of us would go to start it off?"
"You," Alda says instantly. "I don't think I'd be able to really replicate the nature of this company. You would. You should be the one to go."
I pick up my martini again and take another sip. "I'll think about it."