Mr.smoothpalms was no one important, but he knew someone who was.

Someone whom he was able to please.  And yeah, it showed - and it was taking his health down.  But the torn innards were treatable with the drugs his lover supplied ... well, somewhat treatable - that is, if he avoided any of the foods he loved.  Anyway, it was so worth it - being seen at those dinner parties.  The tv people were constantly all a gush at who was attending - and more importantly, who was not.  Even the newscasts made way for these happenings.  

So, in short, mr.snoothpalms - being no dummy - was all speedahead to enjoy it, while it lasted.   Yeah, he was well aware of what happened to the ex-lover before the last ex.  That person, though, was not discreet, and ended up ... ruined.  Smoothpalms, was smarter than that.  When the inevitable came, he'd certainly not make a scene, but quietly get out of the picture.  He had funds stashed away - enough to get set up somewhere out west.

But for now, he was among the favored elite of lovers.  So much so, that he had, though limited power, oh yeah, he had every (though careful) intention to use it.  Why not, he was being used - and rather harshly so.

He knew, unlike countless others, he'd successfully make the transition back to social anonymity.  Besides, being the big fish, in a small pond, was easy, was fun enough - and so much safer.  Really, it was the little things in life that gave him pleasure.  He smiled to his reflection in his bathroom mirror - oh the shattered look on that silly  dyke's face, when he told her to clear out her locker.  Teary-eyed, she begged that he reconsider, that she had a child, that the kid's dad was ... well, he couldn't remember if he had taken off, or was in jail.  Not that he cared.  She broke the rules about having an outburst - either to a team member, or a customer - while on the premises.

Good times.  He straightened his shirt collar.