The Sale and Symbolism of Sue Anderson
Here is an old short that I wrote about Sue Anderson somewhere in the early 2000s. It’s funny how lost I was in what my idea of what I thought my dream girl was. Needless to say, Sue has a lot more depth than she did in the early days. Enjoy!
Shortly after lunch, I found myself in a marketing meeting. I slid lower in my chair as Andy Blishe began his presentation on Choccywafers. The effects Choccywafers have on the economy, the Choccywafers per capita and so on.
“Our numbers are down,” Andy announced sternly, “we need to up the Choccywafer campaign.” Andy shot me a wink. It made me wish I had stayed home that morning.
Andy was a clever guy, but he lacked natural charisma. He had no sense of style and as a result most of his ideas were drawn upon by middle-age static. The sort of demographic he was constantly shooting for, was himself. He was a type. A bit bulgy in the middle section, balding, stuck in middle management. His main goal was to appease the regular guy.
“May I present to you the new Choccywafer girl!” The group unconvincingly marveled as Andy unveiled a large high-gloss poster bearing the image of a bikini-clad vixen, devouring a handful of cookies.
My first instinct was to giggle a little at the unoriginality of it all. But, sex sells and it certainly had me bought as early as age eleven. So I dove in head first, like a good corporate lackey. I moved closer to get a better look at this modern day champion of cookies.
What I saw sent chills down my spine. The Choccywafer girl wasn’t just any cheap model (slash) corporate zombie; she was my Choccywafer girl (slash) High School dream girl. I had to put my hand on the table to steady myself.
I looked over my shoulder for a hidden camera. I thought for sure I was on one of those, This is your life shows. Never the less it was Sue Anderson alright.
I hadn’t heard from her since I moved away for college. Since coming to San Diego, I had all but forgotten about her. But now, her sweet smile and warm eyes were driving into my soul. Her body fit perfectly into the crème-colored bathing suit and she had Choccywafer smeared around her lips. I wasn’t sure whether to be excited or ashamed.
Against my better judgment I immediately supported the idea, full force. I even spun off alternative poses and backdrops to give the campaign legs. Perhaps I was being hasty, but could you blame me? I wanted to see Sue again. My chest hurt at the idea.
As the meeting ended, I was full of confusing emotions. I decided then and there I was going to find her no matter the outcome. I convinced myself she would be happy to hear from me. I couldn't imagine she would have forgotten me. It would destroy me if she had.
I went straight to the only source I could trust with my confidentiality, Andy’s secretary. Bonnie was the glue behind the company, how she got stuck with Andy is beyond me. She has bailed him out more times than I care to remember.
Bonnie was in her mid sixties and had wandering eyes. On at least two occasions she had “accidentally” fallen into my lap. It was sort of flattering, but at the same time, she smelled like gold bond and vinaigrette, so I mostly steered clear of her.
Andy was blessed with by far the worst office location known to man. The tiny room sat just between the elevator and the restroom and catty-corner from the front desk. He couldn’t come in or leave without a horde of people noticing. His only line of defense from a barrage of questions and invasions was Bonnie. Her flower print dresses and curly white hair painted her as approachable, but this woman was a man-eater.
She must make at least one intern a week cry their eyes out. You have to plan out exactly what you want to say to her ahead of time or she'll laugh you out of the office. I did just that.
I paced myself as I headed towards her desk. I had a veritable manifesto written on the palm of my hand.
“Bonnie, that new girl from Andy’s poster, I need her phone number.” I guess the manifesto idea was ill fated. As a simple reflex, as if expecting something awful, my whole body cringed. I was sure I would get the boot or worse yet a long-winded speech on respect and the act of belittling the status of a secretary, one of the most beleaguered professions out there. To my chagrin, she merely smiled.
She subtly raised her eyebrows. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so hard after all. “Baby, have you ever heard of foreplay?”
I had to consider my words carefully. A subtle foul up here and I'd never find out if Sue Anderson even remembered who I was. I decided for the safe approach. I would answer her question with a question.
“Have you ever considered modeling?”
“Oh, stop it.” She reached out a piece of paper and winked. “Don’t go off cheatin’ on me now!”
I returned the wink as I pulled the number from her dry leathery hands. She managed to fondle my fingers and blow a kiss in my direction before I disappeared around the corner.
I felt like I had made it to the other side of a limbo bar. I just successfully took a calculated risk to get what I wanted and now I was doing the happy victory dance.
For years I had pined after Sue Anderson. Sue was the center of my world through high school, though I never had the courage to act on anything. I always felt a connection with her, and I think she felt it too. Maybe the timing was never right, maybe I was totally delusional. Perhaps, after all these years, now was the right time.
I had become all but a memory in our hometown. My ten year high school reunion was right around the corner. I wondered if she might be open to attaching herself to a guy like me? I didn't doubt she likely had a boyfriend, that poster was hard to resist.
I pondered every angle as I sat there in my office; phone receiver in hand. While I waited, the phone screamed. I had a sudden panic attack, somehow expecting it to be Sue. But it was just my mother on the other end of the line. I brushed her off quickly and hung up the phone.
Maybe I wasn’t ready, my nerves were too much. Calling Sue would take some courage and I had to work up to it. It was almost two o’clock, close enough to calling it a day. I grabbed my jacket and headed for the elevator. I needed liquor if this was really going to happen.