Traveling with Mr. Peanut

Sculpture of Mr. Peanut seated on a bench in A...

A statue of “the client” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was my first job out of college. I liked to think that it was the pay off for my work in school. The truth was that my uncle knew someone who knew someone. The PR guy in me re-phrases that into “it was the job I was born to get.”

I had a discouraging first week. Reading company policy, learning the mission statement and arranging my cubicle occupied my time. Then came Friday morning. It was the day I got my first big assignment.

The morning meeting droned on. It appeared I’d stay busy helping someone else with their projects instead of getting my own. I was wrong. A senior partner in the firm called my name.

“Michael, it is time for you to show us we hired the right man. One of our clients is traveling to New York to shoot an ad. We need him to arrive, on time. Make that happen. You and Mr. Peanut leave for the east coast on the red-eye tonight.”

I was thrilled! The boss had entrusted me with a celebrity client. It was time to make my opportunity count.

When the car service dropped him off at the airport, I was there at the curb. As Mr. Peanut got out of the car his height surprised me. I introduced myself. Mr. Peanut looked me over and adjusted his monocle. “Bags, Mike. Get my bags.”

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Mr. Peanut – Behind The Monocle, Pain.

Mr. Peanut

Mr. Peanut (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mr. Peanut seems a likable guy. Maybe it is the constant smile. Sometimes I think it is the monocle. Perhaps it is the attitude that lets him roam the streets in nothing but a top hat, gloves and spats as if to say “here’s what I’ve got and I’m not ashamed.”

It is hard to say what exactly it is about him that has endeared him to us all over the years. Charm is indefinable sometimes, isn’t it?

Sometimes charm and a perpetual smile hide something. A secret something that causes pain and fear. Though none of us want to think about Mr. Peanut suffering, I must tell you that I see pain behind the monocle. Read the rest of this entry »