This wasn’t exactly a part of the job that Georgie had known about or expected, but he had an obligation and he had to do it daily, without fail. He hadn’t counted on this situation becoming a regular part of daily life, although he had promised Karl that he would be would be happy to do anything it took to win the election.
Karl stood behind the desk at one end of the Yellow Room, clad in crisply ironed brown shirt and black riding boots, hair combed perfectly to one side and unblinking dark eyes distorted behind thick lenses. A small square mustache was prominent in the center of his upper lip. He motioned to Georgie.
"Come here."
Georgie cringed, face down, prone on the floor, hands clasped behind his back. When Karl said "Come here", Georgie would squirm and wiggle slowly, worming his way across the room, eyes averted, toward his boss and those delectably shiny boots.
The harvest yellow shag carpet (from which the room got its name) had a well-worn trail, the result of daily squirmings over the course of four years. Prob’ly have to replace it soon, thought Georgie. Doubt if’n it’ll last another four.
Karl’s cell phone rang, a Wagnerian chorale. He held up one hand, signaling Georgie to stop. Georgie cowered, flat and trembling, while Karl talked. "Yes, Congressman, I’ll have him return your call. Soon." He then motioned to Georgie and the hapless head of state continued worming his way across the floor, slowly, barely daring to look up.
The sight of those beautiful boots, his coveted goal, made Georgie’s heart pound like a jackhammer and his mouth water. Mistakenly, in his eagerness, he increased the pace of his crawl, drawing Karl’s wrath. The riding crop cracked across his back, a stern reminder of who was in charge, who was calling the shots around here.
Georgie continued his slow measured squirm. Almost there. The boss was standing up now, creased brown trousers unwrinkled and perfect. Georgie was now only inches away from those gleaming black boots. Karl held up his hand.
"Stop."
Georgie waited, drooling, his heart racing and legs trembling. The seemingly endless delay finally ended, as it always did, when Karl pronounced, "You may now fulfill your primary duties." Georgie fell to earnestly, slobbering, licking and kissing every square inch of those boots, those powerful symbols of the high and mighty. When the black leather was shiny and spotless, Georgie stood up, straightened his suit and looked Karl in the eye.
"Karl, don’t forget the Cabinet meeting at ten. Oh yes, send a dozen red roses to Connie. Message; I’m sorry about Thursday night. It won’t happen again."
"OK, Georgie."
Georgie turned to go, walking back across the worn path through the carpet, and put his key in the door lock.
"Oh, Georgie?"
"Yes?"
"Who’s your daddy?"
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