As Harassment Claims Mount, Notary Romantics Are in Demand | HumorOutcasts

As Harassment Claims Mount, Notary Romantics Are in Demand

December 7, 2018
By

BOSTON.  This week is the unofficial beginning of the holiday party season, but Chuck Webberau doesn’t seem to be in a festive mood as he sits off in a corner in the hotel ballroom where Modern Moosehead Insurance Company is holding its annual shindig.  “I’m sort of like a designated driver,” he says as he plays a game on his phone.  “I have to be ready to step in when others are about to step out of line.”

The recent spate of sexual harassment claims that has claimed big names in politics and entertainment has spooked Modern Moosehead, the third-largest insurer headquartered in this city, so much so that they’ve hired Webberau at $2 a signature to serve as on-call “notary romantic,” a notary public who verifies consent at every step of an illicit overture, from initial flirtatious remark to final bedding upstairs in a hastily-rented bargain suite.  “We’re not as big as John Hancock or Prudential, so one bad outcome in a lawsuit can hurt us financially,” says Norman Klinefeldt, a Senior Vice President who has spent his entire career at the boring but stodgy company.  “We were the company that came up with the ‘Seatbelts for Soccer Safety’ program, so ‘risk-averse’ is hard-wired into our DNA.”

The High Deductibles, the five-piece band hired to provide music for the affair, has the crowd jumping with a disco medley, then a specially-tailored tune they’ve written for Modern Moosehead, “Take This Ring (Add it to Your Homeowner’s Policy).”  Sheryl Tigue, an administrative assistant in the company’s records department, is cozying up to Ted Flomm, a top-earning broker who just landed a big account and is in a celebratory mood.  As the song comes to an end, Flomm whispers “Let’s go to the cloak room” to his bleached-blonde dancing partner, and soon the two are canoodling between down coats, with Tigue running her manicured nails through Flomm’s heavily-moussed hair.


“You may now touch your secretary’s breast(s).”

 

“Hi guys,” Webberau says, as he moves in with his notary stamp and seal, then turns to Tigue and asks “Is this your free act and deed?”

The young woman, who has never taken out a mortgage or made a will, balks as she is unfamiliar with the formalities of the notary public trade.  “What does that mean?” she asks.

“Just a formality,” Webberau says.  “I need to know at each stage of your ‘relationship’ as it develops tonight that you’ve given informed consent to, uh . . .”

“Ted.”

“Ted’s actions, and any plans he has to go further.”

Tigue looks at the notary with a dubious surmise, then at Flomm with a smile, says “Sure,” and gets back to work playing tonsil hockey with the man she believes could give her an engagement ring big enough to choke the garbage disposal in her tiny one-bedroom apartment.

“Great,” Webberau says.  “Do you have a driver’s license or other photo ID on you?” he asks Tigue, and she uncouples her tongue from Flomm’s mouth long enough to fish in her tiny Kate Spade handbag, find her wallet and hand it to Webberau, who examines her license to make sure it is valid, then writes the number down on his Holiday Party Consent form.

“Here you go,” he says as he slips the ID back into Tigue’s purse.  “Now all I need is for you to sign right here . . . and here . . . and here.”

Tigue displays more than a little irritation as Flomm edges his hand up her dress and advances on the hills of her décolletage.

“Unh-uh-uh,” Webberau says, shaking a scolding finger from side to side.  “Let’s get these forms filled out first.”

“Oh, baby,” Flomm moans, showing the effects of a gin-and-tonic, two beers and a glass of red wine.  “I want you so bad.”

“Bad-ly,” Webberau says as Tigue finishes the paperwork.  He stuffs it in a plastic-covered portfolio that bears the Modern Moosehead logo and motto (“Always never there when you need us”).  “Okay, you two are good to go!” he says with a smile that soon disappears when he hears the strains of Kool & The Gang’s “Celebration” coming from the dance floor.  “Crap,” he says knowingly from past experience, “all hell’s about to break loose.”

“Let’s go,” Flomm says to the woman who has enabled him to forget the depressing aspects of his life, such as a wife and children.

“Shh,” Tigue says, putting a finger to her lips.  “We don’t want Mr. Nerd to hear.”

The two make their way stealthily towards the exit but freeze in their tracks when they hear Webberau’s voice calling out to them.

“Hey you two!” he shouts.

“Damn,” Flomm says, as the two turn with excrement-eating grins to face their employer’s Enforcer of Comportment.

“I’m sorry,” Tigue says with an incandescent smile that could light up a salad crisper.  “I thought we were through.”

“No way,” Webberau says, as he hurries up to confront them.

“Look pal,” Flomm says, taking out his wallet and extending a $20 bill to the notary.  “Can’t you cut us a little slack?”

Webberau looks down at the bill, then back up at Flomm.

“Sure,” he says.  “It’s only $6, $2 notary fee for three signatures, so I owe you $14.  And here are your copies.”

Available as part of the “Notary Bonus Pack!” in “Lawyers Are People Too–Sort Of” on amazon.com.

Con Chapman

I'm a Boston-area writer, author of two novels (most recently "Making Partner"), a baseball book about the Red Sox and the Yankees ("The Year of the Gerbil"), ten published plays and 45 books of humor available in print and Kindle formats on amazon.com. My latest book "Scooter & Skipper Blow Things Up!" was released by HumorOutcasts Press last year. My humor has appeared in The Atlantic, The Christian Science Monitor, The Boston Globe and Barron's, and I am working on a biography of Johnny Hodges, Duke Ellington's long-time alto sax player for Oxford University Press .

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One Response to As Harassment Claims Mount, Notary Romantics Are in Demand

  1. December 7, 2018 at 8:15 am

    I think I have found a new career. I would love to be a notary romantic.



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