When 5:30 rolls around, I see her stack the papers together. She hasn’t made the first call. With a show of gathering her things, she straightens her desk, turns off her computer, then ducks out of sight to rummage around in her drawer for her purse and lunch bag. I get a good view of Evan then, and am more than a little pleased to see him still studiously tuned to his monitor, plugging away at the PowerPoint I gave him. If I had a dozen more employees like him, sales would skyrocket.
Yeah, right, and my own productivity would plummet. A room full of hot guys out there would have me jerking off so much, my d**k would be sore. I’d wear a path between my office and the bathroom. Or, better yet, just sit behind my desk with my pants unzipped and fondle myself right here.
No, I couldn’t hand
