Joe sat in his small office chair with a very tiny window that barely permitted the afternoon sunlight from warming his office on this cold wet April Spring day. He lived not far from the Consumers Union complex, a few miles east, outside the Yonkers, New York, city limits, but his ride in today was particularly uncomfortable when his boss called him on the cell phone and advised that he would be meeting with the woman who at that moment sat across from him. She was more gorgeous and more striking than even her best photos. She wore a leather bomber jacket over a white tank top, flowered skirt, and rhinestoned cowboy boots. Her legs were crossed, her foot air tapping, and she was chewing gum. Normally gum dumbed-down a beautiful woman, but not Naomi Campbell. Her long hair, clean look, and very sparkly eyes clearly reflected a very healthy lifestyle, and the gum chewing accentuated her large lips. Or so Joe was thinking when Naomi interrupted his reverie.
"I have an image problem," said Naomi.
"I wasn't aware," said Joe.
"You weren't aware? Give me a break. You live in a closet?” said Naomi.
"Well, this is a small office?" said Joe sincerely.
"You know who I am, right? I mean you fully know who I am?" asked Naomi sincerely.
"Yes. You are a model," said Joe.
"Model !! No. No. Super Celebrity. Super Spokesperson. Supremo Marketeer. I am at the pinnacle of what I do. You cannot go higher than me," said Naomi as she was checking an email on her Blackberry, which she held in her left hand.
"Yes. Of course," said Joe.
"But I have an image problem. I won't go into details. But I know how to deal with the image problem, which is merely a little bump in the golden road I travel on," said Naomi.
"OK," said Joe.
"And I need your organization, the Consumers whatever, to assist me," said Naomi.
"How can we help," asked Joe.
"Hey, listen, you think my involvement with your consumers thing is just going to be good for me? Let me correct that for you. It will mostly be good for you. I don't want an argument about it," said Naomi.
"No. No. I am sure it will be very beneficial," said Joe.
"I want to do some product testing. I want you to inaugurate the Naomi Campbell Product Test for Durability," said Naomi.
"Well, we have scientists and other highly trained individuals who establish our testing methods," said Joe.
Naomi took the gum out of her mouth and tossed it with perfect precision into the small wastebasket next to the wall, a good seven feet from where she sat.
"I knew you were going to say something stupid like that. You see this cell phone?" said Naomi as she held up a Nokia cell phone in her right hand.
"Yes," said Joe.
"This Nokia cell phone is no way as durable as this Blackberry," said Naomi.
"OK," said Joe. He had no idea where this was going, and was clueless why she was interested in product testing. Joe had a suspicion that he had missed out on some bit of cultural or celebrity news, a problem for someone who buys the newspaper JUST for the crossword puzzle.
"Nokia phones do not hold up when you crash them. The Blackberry not only works just fine after a good whack, but also there is barely a nick on it," said Naomi.
"Listen, Ms. Campbell—"
"Don't interrupt me. I know you think this is kookie given that my minor PR problem stems from my use of these products, but consider the fact that the media loves someone who makes fun of themselves, and this would be a perfect way for me to promote what the media does not know about me," said Naomi.
"Which is?" said Joe.
"A sense of humor. I have a wonderful sense of humor, and I do not like that you are questioning me about this, like you think I do not have a sense of humor," said Naomi as she glared at Joe, flipping her Nokia cell phone in the air.
"I am sure you have a sense of humor," said Joe.
Naomi stands, cell phone in right hand, Blackberry in left.
"Look, like why am I meeting with you. Who the hell are you? Who is your boss, like who runs this consumer thing?" Naomi was getting a little hot.
Joe could not help but notice Naomi's hair flying around as she yelled at him, her left arm outstretched, pointing the Blackberry at him. She was gorgeous, alright, but seemed to be very upset by something that alluded him.
"I can direct you to the Supervisor in my division if you'd like," said Joe.
"Division. I am only in a division here? Christ. I asked to meet with the one in charge. In the charge of the whole thing, not some division. I am not a division person, got that. My manager is going to hear about this screw-up."
Naomi turned and stormed out of the office, slamming shut the door behind her, her flowered skirt flying up revealing muscular thighs. What a woman, thought Joe. He decided that tomorrow morning he was going to buy the New York Post to see what he had missed. He glanced at the crossword puzzle in the New York Times. The clue for 42 down was 'Blackberry boxer.' Five letters. Could it be?