Erik Pethersen - The Ball

«Yes, maybe your friends are a little crazy. They could have been in danger...»

«That’s right. You never know who you’re going to meet. However, to make a long story short, one said that her date did not match the photo on the site: he looked like Yogi Bear but overweight and smelled of alcohol. The other friend got a boy of twenty, not the man of forty she was expecting.»

«So did they do anything in the end?»

«The girl who dated Yogi Bear ran away insulting him. From what I gather, he was saying that she had to end the date in a positive way anyway, because this is the community policy. At those words she started screaming in the bar where they met and she left. The other friend who went out with the young boy said that she felt sorry for him and felt compelled to do something, but I don’t know exactly what she meant...»

«Nice experience, though, Sere. I don’t know, I would never do it: I am against extramarital affairs as a principle, but even if I were free and looking for similar flings, I don’t think I would ever want to meet someone like that, just to have sex. I would look for something different.»

«Yes, Lavi, neither do I, I think. It could also be arousing, but if you meet similar individuals... so scary.»

«What do you mean by arousing?»

«Yes, it could be fun. I would never want to meet someone without my husband’s knowing, I would never do it, but I have been browsing around those sites there and there are also couples who are looking for other people: it sounds interesting... it’s just a thought...»

«Sorry, I don’t get it: would you like to meet another couple, together with your husband, to have sex?»

Serena brings an index finger to her mouth, nibbling at it, and she begins to move the tip of her right shoe up and down by leveraging her heel.

«Is that what you meant?» I keep at it.

«Yes, Lavi, more or less. Come on, I don’t know: it’s not a good idea to say things like that at 8:40 in the morning while I’m still asleep and anyway, no, I don’t think I’d like to have sex with my husband and another couple, or swap couples» she replies a little confused.

«Okay, Sere, I thought you said the opposite before.»

I look at her in a puzzled and amused way as if I am expecting a further explanation on the matter, but she continues to nibble her finger and fiddle with her shoe. Her slightly wavy hair falls on her shoulders and her hazel eyes release a bright light. Those tight jeans, and those ankles, tightened by nylon stockings, finish off what I am looking at, standing in front of the window; she doesn’t look forty-five at all: she looks like a sassy little girl, but well dressed.

And those legs of hers are really perfect.

She touches her thighs with her palms, rubbing her jeans. «But do I have a stain on my jeans, Lavi?» she asks. «Right, I must have got dirty with the icing sugar off the pastry earlier on.»

«No, there’s nothing wrong with your jeans, I don’t think, why?»

«I thought that you were staring at my legs.»

«No, I was just looking at you because I was amused by your mischievous girlish attitude.»

I hear the door open and the four new girls come in, the ones who arrived from the main office two months ago.

We greet them from the back of the room. The four of them say «hello» altogether and go to the first two rows of desks, settling down at their workstations.

«They seem very nice today too» Serena says in a low voice.

«Yes, they seem to have been so sociable for the last two months» I say in a whisper. «At least they keep at it.»

«I guess I have to start work: see you later at the coffee break.»

«Yes, good luck with your work, Sere. One moment...» I add in a low voice, «anyway the four nice girls spared you the explanation of the arousing thing.»

«If you wish, I’ll give you a proper explanation. Perhaps.»

She looks at her thighs, she takes two steps forward and, leaning her torso over the desk, whispers: «And you will have to explain to me why you keep staring at my legs.»

I look up and notice that the front door opens: Giorgio, Umberto, Andrea and Tiziano are coming in together. They are Sbandofin longer standing employees, already at the agency when I started working here in 2007, at the age of thirty-two. I was starting off my third job, preceded by others which lasted for a rather short period. Here I put down some roots, considering that the job is not too depressing and the work environment is quite pleasant.

The four colleagues are now busy walking to their workstations as they do every day. They are all around fifty-five years old: they have good manners and they always go around in groups, rarely seem to be willing to talk to younger colleagues. They always behave in a somewhat detached and defensive manner, as if they want to protect their group and preserve their greater seniority, which is an unquestionable factor, in my opinion.

They meet every morning sharp at the bar in front of the office for breakfast. The same scene is repeated at their lunch break: always together, always united.

«Hello everyone» I say.

«Good morning Lavinia» they reply one after the other, but with the same pitch and with the same neutral tone.

Tiziano and Andrea sit in the row in front of mine in the large open space; on the other hand, Giorgio and Umberto sit in row in front of the new girls.

It is 8:59 am and the office is almost full, ready for the working day: only Maddalena is missing, the girl who sits next to my desk. She may have been delayed by some strange adversity. And also Teresa, the manager: she arrives around ten or a little later.

I can see the phone LED lighting up and I hear Serena’s phone ringing in the distance. The first phone call of the day which will quite possibly made by some desperate individual looking for money. According to the statistics, the early hours of the workdays are filled by this kind of individuals, as if these characters had spent the whole night mulling over how to get a loan. Usually, as the day progresses, more serious individuals with complex needs begin to show up: debt rearranging, large loans or more specific requests of financial brokering.

I have to look for some funding for the three individuals I met yesterday morning: they came here one after the other, after Tom-the-plump-one had left the office. As if they had secretly agreed, the first made an absurd request; as soon as I managed to get rid of him, the other one came in with an even more unlikely question and, when I was beginning to think that the morning could come to an end without any further hassle, the last one arrived to give me the last blow.

For the first potential customer, I therefore have to look for a mortgage to buy his first house along with his wife. It is an easy thing to do because he is unemployed and with a spouse working part-time and getting paid under the counter. The man is desperate because so many banks have declined his request so he turned to us in the hope to find some sort of solution. By discarding every bank and setting aside the blue puppet, not so keen on this kind of loans, FinExtreme is the last resort.

I press the button for my contact list on the phone, I look for the one of these criminals and press the button to call the selected number.

«FinExtreme, good morning, how can I help you?»

«Hi, I’m Lavinia from Sbandofin in Brescia, can I speak to Ettore? I am calling for a request for a loan from one of our clients.»

«Hold on, please, I check if he is available.»

«Great, thank you.»

I am on hold and I keep my eyes on the monitor. As I have done on many occasions in the past, I try to picture what the office of these sharks may look like, and I am not too sure whether it would be a modern building in the south of Milan or an ancient building in the medieval centre. I switch the telephone receiver to my left ear and type in FinExtreme on Google, while a boring jingle is interspersed by a female voice that continues to thank me for my patience and is piercing my eardrum. I click on the icon at the far end of the window and, after a few moments, the map appears with a placeholder around Lambrate. I try to view the outside with Street View: no futuristic buildings or ancient buildings, only old, dilapidated condos that looked more like public housing, rather than the headquarters of prestigious financial intermediaries.