This story is based upon real
people
, not real
events
. Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the devious. I hope this is merely the first of at least a few chapters in this saga.
-----------------------------------------------
Some things you fantasize about over and over. Winning a lottery. Becoming a celebrity. Banging a hot celebrity. Banging a hot
anything
. All of them require events to fall into place just so. Like catching lightning in a bottle.
One of Kevin Schmitz' more endearing (and enduring) fantasies had been brought to life 6 months ago when Kirsten Dale got malware on her work pc while surfing the internet. He had hoped then that with a little patience and a little luck, he could be banging that hot piece of ass eventually.
Kevin Schmitz worked in IT at Willigs, a small- to mid-size company in Madison. Willigs employed about 275 people in their main office in Madison. They had some smaller satellite locations in the upper Midwest but Madison was the home office.
Kevin had grown cynical in his job. Willigs was once a smaller environment, more family-like. Decisions were made by a small group of upper management who had the best interests of Willigs in mind; just like it is supposed to be. But after 20 years at Willigs -- 10 of them in the IT department -- Kevin had seen a deterioration of commonsense management. Departments had become business entities unto themselves. Each department developed their own turf and rarely did Kevin see decisions made based upon what was good for the bottom line.
Web security was something Kevin had come to specialize in over the last few years. Willigs accepted credit card payments and thus was in the middle of becoming PCI compliant. Kevin was all onboard with that effort. Willigs had seen an increase in malware incidents the last few year since a third-party firm was hired to monitor network traffic. Kevin was usually the IT guy assigned the task of cleaning up a pc that got a trojan or other piece of messy malware.
Willigs' upper management had become increasingly tired of the amount of malware its employees were getting on their pc's. Everyone knew that if the wrong kind of malware got on the wrong pc and went undetected long enough, it could mean unprecedented disaster for Willigs. A key-logging trojan that leaked out customer credit card numbers was their worst fear. Therefore, the level of paranoia about pc users getting malware was on the rise.
Right or wrong, upper management felt that users were solely responsible for malware getting into their work pc's. There was talk of disciplinary sanctions against employees who got malware. There was a widespread rumor that upper management was looking to make an example out of somebody. Kevin, being deeply involved in Willigs' policies regarding internet usage, knew that no such effort was underway. The one thing any company with 10 or more employees was good at was spreading stupid rumors.
But Kirsten Dale didn't know that. And Kevin Schmitz counted on that.
Kirsten Dale was hot. Just plain hot. She stood about 5'-10", long legs, slim, blonde, pretty face. Not a porn star size chest but what she had looked good on her 25-year old body. Since Kevin had dealt with her one other time -- the first time she got malware about 6 months ago -- he knew she wasn't real smart. A simple clerk in the merchandising department. She chased paperwork and, if another rumor was to be believed, she didn't even do it well.
Whenever Kevin got a work order for a hot chic, there was always the 7
th
-grade-kid-in-study-hall part of him that wanted to tell the chic that he'd move her up to his top priority for a blow job. Alas, Kevin never tried that one. Something about not wanting a sexual harassment complaint in his file kept him from actually saying it.
So on July 13, 2010, at 3:10pm when the work order came in saying that DefenderPlus had flagged her pc for the Zeus trojan, he wondered if he had just caught that lightning in a bottle.
"Well, maybe not quite lightning in a bottle," Kevin thought to himself. But surely, opportunity and circumstance had met nicely. "But I'm gonna fuck her brains out for this one. Well, I'm gonna
try
."
He almost picked up the phone and called her right away. Then he put the phone down, got up from his desk and went outside for a brief walk. He had to think this through.
"Should I?"
"How would I carry this off?"
"What if it failed?"
"What if she's not so dumb and doesn't fall for it?"
"What should I do first?"
He thought it best not to do anything right away. He'd think on it over night and come in tomorrow with some sort of a plan.
The next day, Thursday, started off shitty. He had a voice mail from the corporate lawyer: "Kevin, this is Jack. My laptop's doing something funny since you rebuilt it yesterday. I can't have it like this. I need it for just about everything I do. Please call me right away."
"Fuck," Kevin muttered to himself. "There goes my day. Probably the next 2 days if I have to rebuild that fucking thing again."
Jack Reagle was Willigs' lawyer and a fucking prick to boot. No one respected him and a call from him usually meant a huge lack of fun in your day. Suffice to say, the Kirsten Dale plan was just nixed. If he had to deal with Reagle's laptop again, the Kirsten Dale work order would be given to someone else.
"Well, maybe Ted can end up fucking her," he chuckled as he thought of that.
Ted was his IT co-worker. Approaching 60, Ted was a fundamentalist religious zealot who was so right-wing, he'd make Rush Limbaugh look like Hillary Clinton's running mate for 2012.
He called Jack's extension and was greeted with a professional, "Mr. Reagles' office, this is Kate. How can I help you?"
"Hi, Kate. Kevin Schmitz here. Jack left a voice mail to call him."
"Oh, OK," she said, "I'll put you through." Kate was Jack Reagles' ever-faithful paralegal. She was a stuffy, stodgy old woman but Kevin respected her mightily after seeing how Jack treated her like shit.
10 seconds later he was greeted with a rushed, "This is Jack Reagles."
"Hey, Mr. Reagles. Kevin Schmitz returning your call." And with that he was prepared for his day to be ruined. He'd seen it before from this guy. Reagles was a pro at exaggerating his problems and most of the time just didn't know what the hell he was talking about. He treated everybody like shit. Kevin would have to get in a long line if Willigs held a Kick Jack Reagles' Ass Day.
"Oh yeah, Kevin. You know what? Doesn't look like anything's wrong after all. I remember now you telling me this screen would pop up at my first login. I just figured it was a message that meant disaster. I clicked 'OK' on it like you said and everything looks good. The laptop seems to be working much better since you did what you did with it yesterday."
"Ah, well, that's great," Kevin replied, relieved in about 47 different ways.
"OK," Reagles said. "Thanks," and he hung up.
"Fuck," Kevin said aloud. "Talk about dodging a bullet. I feel like I just got excused from a 2-day seminar on How To Keep Your Cubicle Clean. Man what a break."
And then his devious mind wondered if that was a sign...
"I just got out of a potential 2-day task from hell. Those things don't just happen. Let's do this..." and he got a little flush from excitement.
Kevin dialed Kirsten Dale's number and waited.
"Merchandising, this is Kirsten," her voice rising at the end.
"Christ," Kevin thought to himself. "She even
sounds
like a dumb blonde."
"Hey, Kirsten," Kevin began. "This is Kevin Schmitz from IT. We have a 3
rd