Mr Finance

Based on a true story…

It was supposed to be fun. We were finally doing it, finally stepping up to be adults. We had organised what little finance we had, trawled the internet, spoken to all the 'experts' in our lives and then, we’d done it. We’d stepped over the cracked concrete and browning grass that separated the sidewalk from the yard. Triumphant, we’d smiled at the man who greeted up with his very false teeth and thinning hair and asked about a car.

Soon after, sitting in the tiny demountable that passed as an office in lot of the second hand car yard, I didn't feel triumphant. I didn't feel good at all. I felt disgusting and dirty.

Everyone warns you about car salesmen. It's a sad stereotype passed down by mothers to daughters to friends. Car salesmen are slimy and disgusting and misogynistic. Our salesman was great. He spoke to me like he did my partner, as a potential buyer who deserves manners and respect. Props to you, Payton. I’d say ‘hello’ in the street any time.

The finance guy, however, was a skin crawler. The second I sat down, he was all chummy with Ben, shaking hands, laughing. Hahaha. I got a token hand shake and then it happened. His eyes zeroed in directly onto my boobs.

Yep, he went right there. Didn't stop, didn't pass Go, went straight to the boobs.

The summery, modest-necked dress I had been wearing in the hopes of going out for a drink later to celebrate buying a car, now felt transparent. The sensible, full coverage bra that had nice, neutral straps, so as not to attract the eye- I may as well not have even been wearing it.

At first, I thought there might be something on my dress, maybe some toothpaste, maybe some crumbs from my toast. Nope. Just material.

Ben was oblivious until Mr Finance went over to the printer. I leaned over and practically hissed in his ear.

"He keeps staring at my boobs."

Disbelief.

My Ben is a gentleman. He opens doors for ladies, holds out chairs, is polite to everyone and loves to make people feel comfortable. Unfortunately, and this is something I forgot when I leaned over to whisper-shout in his ear, my Ben is also incredibly vindictive.

Like car salesmen, mages get a bad wrap, particularly after the Coming Out in 2024. A lot of negativity was turned their way when the Guild finally decided to expose themselves and their organisation to ‘normal’ humans. People thought they were selfish for having kept magic a secret for so long. They questioned their involvement in natural disasters, political downfalls and even the development of diseases. It was ridiculous. Anti-mage groups popped up everywhere, and there was an even a group in California claiming that the Guild had made all magic up, that it wasn’t real. Yeah, because everyone knows the internet works via a technology-based cloud in the sky. Sure.

Now, me, I’m a plain old human but Ben, he’s not. He’s no High Mage or Brett Gabaldi, but he can do some things.

There wasn’t time for him to respond before Mr Finance was back and, this time, when his eyes went laser-focussed on my chestal area, I saw Ben take note. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, cleared his throat and leaned forward to get the attention back on him.

On the one hand, I’d prefer Mr Finance to cop a fist to the nose. On the other, if Ben did hit him, we’d never get the money for our dream starter car, it just wouldn’t happen.

I decided to be the bigger person and let it go. I tried, unobtrusively to cross my arms over the majority of my chest- it isn’t that big, so largely, successful! Mr Finance was distracted by shelling out the multiple papers we had to sign and fill out and then his computer crashed, it was a whole thing.

It was while I was writing down my home address in the teeny-tiny boxes they give you, that I felt his attention return to me. Most girls will tell you, it’s the creepy ones that you can feel watching, even if you’re a room away with frosted glass and a crowd between you. You know. When it’s across a desk, it takes everything in you, not to look up and give them the finger.

Instead, I hunched over and propped an elbow on the desk to block his view. All we had to do was get this paperwork filled out and we were home free. Beside me, Ben shifted, his elbow brushing my arm and a snap of electricity jumped from skin to skin.

Mr Finance sniffed and dabbed at his nose with a pocket handkerchief then clicked something on the computer, without once looking away, and I bit back a shudder. I thought these kind of dinosaurs were all dead and buried, along with taxes on feminine products and the pay gap.

He sniffed again, then sneezed so suddenly that I had to look up. Mr Finance blinked watery eyes at me and excused himself. I nodded awkwardly and went back to my paperwork. Ben hadn’t even bothered to say ‘bless you’, an out-dated religion-based salutation to a sneeze but, one he usually used out of good manners.

“So, what is it you two do for work?” Mr Finance sniffed then blew his nose. Ben stayed quiet, apparently immersed in his form.

“I’m a teacher.” I reluctantly answered. I didn’t want this man to know anything more about me, a difficult spot when he was the guard to the gateway of loans.

“Big or little kids?” He asked, leaning forward and clearing his phlegmy throat. I could see the ear hairs poking out from the side of his head. Firstly, they’re students, not kids.

“Primary.”

“Oh, God, I don’t know how you do it. Isn’t it disgusting having to wipe their bums all day? I couldn’t do it.” He scoffed, tossing himself back in his seat. I kind of hoped his dad-bod would throw him off balance and he’d fall out of the chair. It didn’t.

“Yeah…” Disbelief, again. “We don’t do that in primary school.”

I ducked my head to end the conversation just as Mr Finance let out an ear-ringing sneeze that sent his chair on wheels banging up against the back wall. I blinked back at him as another sneeze took hold, followed by several more, to the point where his nose was running as badly as his eyes and Payton, the salesman came in to check on the creep.

“Everything ok?” Payton asked. Ben lifted his head, face full of concern for Mr Finance.

“He doesn’t seem very well.”

“You okay, boss?” Payton asked, stepping up to check on Mr Finance, only to dodge back when the man exploded into another, very wet sneezing fit.

Unable to stand it, I jumped out of my chair and backed towards the door. I’m a teacher, germs are part and parcel of the job but this was Red Level in disgusting. If we were at school, the kid would be home faster than you could say bubonic plague.

“Uh, come on out the front, folks, and we’ll finish up your paperwork in the fresh air.” Payton ushered us out and even went so far as to shut the door on the spluttering Mr Finance.

“We’re done.” Ben handed the salesman two sets of completed paperwork. I was pretty sure mine hadn’t been finished when the sneezing fits started.

“Oh, brilliant, then. I’ll put this all through when the boss is… uh… finished in there, then we’ll be in touch in a couple of days.” Payton smiled. “Just quietly, though, everything sounds good.”

“Thanks, Payton. We really appreciate your professionalism.” Ben smiled back broadly and shook the other mans’ hand. Payton nodded and shook my hand in turn.

“Nice to meet you both.” He nodded, eyes firmly in the safe zones. I liked him.

It was as we were getting in the car, that Mr Finance burst out of the demountable building, yelping and screaming as he jumped from foot-to-foot. There, on his dad-bod chest, stretching out his car yard polo was a pair of large, perky breasts.

“Lunch?” Ben asked as we stared at the shrieking, malformed financier.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss.

Isn’t he just the sweetest guy?