A Commodore of Errors by John Jacobson Read Free Book Online Page A

lot less comfortable now than when she first walked in.
    Johnson turned to Miss Conrad. “This will only take a minute. Mitzi will show you where to sit.”
    Where to sit. Right. Well, this Conrad looks like a good kid. She deserves a break.
    Mitzi motioned for Miss Conrad to follow her. They left the bachelor pad and entered Johnson’s office. Mitzi walked over to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase on the right side of the office, looked over her shoulder toward the door for any sign of Johnson, and then pressed a hidden button.
    A Murphy bed plopped out of the bookcase.
    Mitzi touched the bed. “Satin sheets, babe.” She pressed the hidden button again and the Murphy bed sprang up, once more becoming a bookcase. Miss Conrad stared at the bookcase with her hand pressed to her mouth. Mitzi again looked out for Johnson, then pointed at the door next to the bookcase. A brass sign on the door said Conference Room . Mitzi pushed open the door so Miss Conrad could peek inside. Miss Conrad saw a hot tub, a wet bar, and a sauna. Mirrors covered the walls and ceiling. Steam wafted from the room.
    She stared at Mitzi with her mouth open.
    â€œHave fun, babe,” Mitzi said.
    They heard Johnson coming. “He’ll want you to sit here.” Mitzi pointed to one of two rickety director’s chairs placed in front of Johnson’s desk. “Goodluck keeping your legs crossed,” she said and walked out of the office, just as Johnson walked in.
    Mitzi went back to her desk and pulled up the QVC Channel website that she kept hidden behind a Word document. She kept the corner of her eye on Johnson’s door.
    Two minutes later, Miss Conrad marched out with Johnson right behind her.
    â€œNo!” Miss Conrad said. “I don’t want to be in the conference room, or this office with all these bookcases, or that, that, that room back there with all the love seats and sofas.”
    â€œBut, Miss Conrad.” Johnson stamped his foot on the floor. “I so much wanted to meet with you.”
    Miss Conrad was already out the door. Johnson started running after her but stopped at Mitzi’s desk.
    â€œWhat on earth do you suppose got into her?” he said.
    Mitzi snapped her gum behind the surgical mask. She’d been waiting for this. “I guess she has bigger fish to fry.”
    â€œBigger fish?” Johnson said. “Did you say bigger fish, Mitzi?”
    â€œYeah, you know, bigger.”
    â€œYou do know, Mitzi, that I am the biggest this institution has to offer?”
    â€œYeah.” Mitzi snapped her gum. “So I’ve heard.”
    â€œIt sounds to me as if you don’t believe it.”
    â€œI guess I’d have to see it to believe it.” Mitzi, acting as if she did not care either way, discretely slid her hand toward her desk drawer.
    Sure enough, Johnson, after a lifetime of obsessing over the size of his johnson, did the only thing he knew to do when challenged. He whipped it out right there in front of Mitzi’s desk. Before he realized what was happening, Mitzi had reached into her drawer and pulled out a digital camera.
    Johnson froze.
    Mitzi snapped a close-up and ran.
    Johnson’s Johnson stood there with his trousers around his ankles. “Mitzi! Get back here with that camera!”
    Johnson chased Mitzi down the marble stairs and out of Wiley Hall. She ran as fast as she could, struggling to breathe through the surgical mask. She ran all the way to the main gate and kept on running down Steamboat Road and did not stop running until she got to the Great Neck Martinizing Dry Cleaners on Middle Neck Road, where Mogie was waiting for her in their secret hideaway upstairs.

THE LITTLE GUY IS BIGGER

    â€œW ell, what do you know,” Mogie said, looking at the photo of Johnson’s
    Johnson’s johnson. “I’m bigger.”
    â€œI knew you had to be, babe,” Mitzi said.
    â€œNot when it’s down. He may have me beat