Job well done.

So I go to meet the man behind the voice I have been dealing with for the job I’ve been doing over th past couple of weeks. My expectations are wrong, not a slim suited nervous business man, but a large baseball cap wearing hook nosed gentleman, who bares a striking resemblance to our friend Matty but in a bad way, so as to become known to us as Bad Matty. Bad Matty, is ok to work with though and the job turns out to be quite fun although many corrections go back and forth. He wears cowboy boots and is off to Vegas with the printed job on Saturday. We just manage to get it the printers in time after the Easter break, through which I worked.
I’m lazy and don’t check everything properly and the printers have to change a couple of picture from RGB to grayscale, I’m such a bodger. Bad bodger.
Anyway, he’s very pleased with it and singing my praises takes me to lunch and pays me in full. I didn’t mention that I had a baby, but Erbie gave himself away about halfway through the job by squeaking loudly in the background of a phone call. At the next meeting, he asked, so how old is he then? Who? I casually replied. Since then, as he now knows, I’ve threatened to bring him along to several maeetings, but GR has always been on hand to sit, so Bad Matty now thinks I have an imaginary baby.
He asked how old I was. And I replied honestly, 'Gosh I thought you were about 32 he said kindly, which had the unprofessional effect of making me blush.
Bad Matty had had minor surgery, according to his secretary, the day befor our first meeting, which he then proceeded to mention several times, so that in the end I felt I ought to ask after. He very proudly told me he had hair plugs and showed me, I was careful not to look, and smiled politely. That will last until I don’t care whether I have hair or not, he said.