The client waited at the door, a doorway into a new beginning where endings were trumped by fresh starts and nothing was left to rot in the soil, everything had a chance, an opportunity as the client knocked on the door.
My client winced as I hit a sore muscle. “Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded, “I have started running again. I think I overdid it yesterday.”
“Do I need to stop, does it hurt too much?”
“No. Keep going.”
She gripped the chair as I attempted to work out the knot.
Ah the life of a nail tech!
She was droning on about her mother again. He leaned in, making sure to keep eye contact as she revisited a painful memory he’d heard two or three times. His dry cleaning needed to be picked up before his son’s soccer game, and he suddenly remembered he forgot to get his tires checked. “So what do you think?” His client’s voice was like a splash of cold water to the face. “Ah, well, it’s not important what I think. What do you think?” he replied reflexively.
“You are my client and I can not let you do this.” The lawyer shouted as he slammed his fists on the table. “You don’t have a say in the matter.”
“You can’t stop me from changing my plea to guilty.” The man sat, confident, in the chair across from the lawyer.
“Oh I can. And I will.” The lawyer pulled a revolver from his belt. “I will…”
The client was not satisfied with the home project that I had displayed in her home of all places. My job is selling vacuum cleaners, and after trying over ten minutes to get the machine working, then to have it blow out all the stuff that I had just cleaned up out of her carpet; well you know what happened next.
The client was anonymous. They all were, these days. Either no-one had the balls to show their face when they came to my office, or — and this was the more likely option — no-one wanted to suffer the hit to their reputation that would come from contracting someone of my profession. My peculiar, singular profession…
Sei solo un cliente ma io mi sono innamorato di te alla prima volta che ti ho visto entrare. Capelli biondi e sembri Apollo sceso in terra, come avrei potuto fare altrimenti?
Ti amo e sono un cinico; tu mi odi e hai ideali che io non condividerò mai.
Non posso fare altro che sperare di un giorno dove il caffè che ti offro ogni giorno, sarà il nostro per sempre.
The gruff entrepreneur approached his clients In roguish manner, unlike his rival counterparts. Despite of his many shortcomings, he earned a handsome amount each year, besides having managed to expand his business threefold in the last decade.
Does this mean having people skills is a mythical requirement for aspiring entrepreneurs?
I’d say it certainly is an added benefit, but manipulation is a lot better.
Clients can be difficult. They are hard to please and always want more than you can offer. Clients can be customers. They say the customer is always right. Thats a lie. A customer isn’t always right.
Clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients. clients,clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, why do I have to talk about clients? I’m still to young to have clients anyway.
The office was tucked into some shady corner on some shady street. The carpet reeked of cigarettes. A woman slept behind the counter, spilled wine dripping over the forms on her desk. And the girl sighed and walked in.
After two months, Doyle had settled in to a neat little pattern. He would receive a brief, to the point message from the man he now referred to as “the puppeteer”, every week or so, giving the name of the target and the information to use against him. A few weeks of online research, phone calls, some eavesdropping in Washington bars, and within a month he would have composed a plan of action, which he would then review with his client, and put into action. This cycle had been going on for a full six months now, and almost a hundred more would come under his scrutiny before the election in November. After the screw up with Governor Crowe, he now suggested that candidates should not openly resign, but simply “decide not to run again” when their candidacy came up. That would make the press less likely to inquire as to the reason for their retirement, and it would keep them off his back too. It would also make it too late for any quality replacements to be found or groomed, so that the puppeteer’s stable of young hopefuls could step up to the plate practically unopposed.
The client walked in. They were shorter than I imagined. Hearing that gruff voice over the phone made me picture a giant on the other end of the line. Regardless, his demeanor was intimidation. He had some demands, and we were going to fulfill them.
He was the first client. The first in months to enter the little store. “.45 bullets?”, he asked.
“I’m afraid we only have .22”
And the man exited the building, to the dark wrecked world outside.
The client came in. The same types of problems he had been having last week. I told him several times to try and work through his issues as I assigned him to stop being so shy and try to talk to people. He just became more quiet and reserved than he had been before.
the client lent their selves to an extensive contract,
oh yes they did, without a stern frown, there they were, signining,
but how can we deem this client true of the delight we endure,
a man with a pen is a man with charge for the future,
as we surge ahead, we dread like a bed without a sheet,
a man without a shirt,
like the latter, we wear raw life!
The client was silent before her. Narrowing her eyes, Clara licked her dry lips. The air reeked of stale air and long forgotten coffee. “Well?” The word echoed through the dilapidated office. The client coughed, dark curls bouncing. He cleared his throat and wiped his cigarette stained fingers over his jeans. “I need you to help me find my friend.”
Someone who you work with; a business relationship between the seller and buyer; someone that you cater to and treat well in a business setting. No matter what’s in the business exchange with cameras and other spy-like device. Anyways..
Someone who you work with; a business relationship between the seller and buyer; someone that you cater to and treat well in a business setting. My client was a yoga man with long hair and a rocking roll band.
he dresses up every day. suite, waistcoat, tie, belt, shoes to match. he stands before the mirror and slicks back his hair, practices his smile, practices his spiel. he’ll own the client one day, he’s sure
She had tens of clients and she knew each of their names and faces, but not many of them really stood out to her. The few that did were mostly the ones who were over-the-top loud or happy- whom she wanted to stay away from after a long day at work, Though, there was a quiet girl who was interesting. She had been with the Guild for a few years and was an Elite member. She had come in one day asking if a Droid could join as her partner.
There was a client – a very rude one, by the way -, that came to the store to complain about a product which he have broken and was try to decive the staff saying that the product had a deffect from factory.
The client entered the room with almost perfect precision, not a hair out of place. It was all I could do not to snort into my tea, because how a person like that had even managed to get here without being robbed blind was a mystery that would likely never be solved.
plotting on a way to get clients, maybe i should be little more compliant, form my words fully n tone down the violence, i subject them to when ever i start rhyming
OMG
I’ve just been thinking about my future clients. How I can bless them in advance just for being who thay are. HERE and NOW. In the world.
I don’t know them. They don’t know me.
Or maybe I already know them AND they already know me.
There will be a before AND an after.
Before they were someone and I was no one to them.
AFTER they’ll be my CLIENTS and I’ll be their COACH.
the client need more insurance coverage ,I will call them back tomorrow. Another client need to get homeowners insurance effective tomorrow what do I do to get this ready for the client
The brunette shook her long tousled hair over one of her shoulder and walked briskly into the employee break room. Her last appointment hadn’t been one of her more pleasant ones. The client had been hairy and prone to making grotesque noises, all while calling her unsavory names. She was thankful she was a new masseuse and therefore wasn’t yet allowed to give her clients the “full treatment”. For someone who made a living giving happy endings, her own ending was far from satisfactory.
Treat me like a client.
Keep my secrets,
answer my phone calls,
show genuine interest in my problems –
but most of all, worry about losing me
and the love I spend like cash.
cut rate cut budget cut the crap
client contained budget rap
cellophane wrapped
contained contract
how much money you pay is equal to the representation
you deserve
that, sad client is the final word.
This sample came from a record out of my late Grandmother’s collection. Flipping the 3 bar intro on this song paid rent, child support and kicked off the career of my dreams. Until recently, I thought it was hard work, relentlessness and being too dumb to take NO for an answer that helped me sell this beat. Recently I’ve come to realize that the only person on earth that gave me unconditional love was still with me; guiding, loving and pushing me- many years after she passed. RIPMaManFiFie
I stared at the woman who was supposed to be my lawyer. She didn’t look any older than twenty, but something about the way she held herself and the way her eyebrows knit together in that professionally curious frown told me she had a lot more years on her than I thought. Without saying anything else, she led me into her tiny yet air conditioned office and offered me a piece of gum.
“It’s cinnamon,” she admitted when I declined. “I know most people don’t like cinnamon, but I like a good kick in my teeth once in a while.”
The client waited at the door, a doorway into a new beginning where endings were trumped by fresh starts and nothing was left to rot in the soil, everything had a chance, an opportunity as the client knocked on the door.
My client winced as I hit a sore muscle. “Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded, “I have started running again. I think I overdid it yesterday.”
“Do I need to stop, does it hurt too much?”
“No. Keep going.”
She gripped the chair as I attempted to work out the knot.
Ah the life of a nail tech!
She was droning on about her mother again. He leaned in, making sure to keep eye contact as she revisited a painful memory he’d heard two or three times. His dry cleaning needed to be picked up before his son’s soccer game, and he suddenly remembered he forgot to get his tires checked. “So what do you think?” His client’s voice was like a splash of cold water to the face. “Ah, well, it’s not important what I think. What do you think?” he replied reflexively.
good web site.
Things on the store wasn´t exactlly blooming, there were no clients. They were all gone because of the competition with big chain stores.
“You are my client and I can not let you do this.” The lawyer shouted as he slammed his fists on the table. “You don’t have a say in the matter.”
“You can’t stop me from changing my plea to guilty.” The man sat, confident, in the chair across from the lawyer.
“Oh I can. And I will.” The lawyer pulled a revolver from his belt. “I will…”
The client was not satisfied with the home project that I had displayed in her home of all places. My job is selling vacuum cleaners, and after trying over ten minutes to get the machine working, then to have it blow out all the stuff that I had just cleaned up out of her carpet; well you know what happened next.
The client was anonymous. They all were, these days. Either no-one had the balls to show their face when they came to my office, or — and this was the more likely option — no-one wanted to suffer the hit to their reputation that would come from contracting someone of my profession. My peculiar, singular profession…
Sei solo un cliente ma io mi sono innamorato di te alla prima volta che ti ho visto entrare. Capelli biondi e sembri Apollo sceso in terra, come avrei potuto fare altrimenti?
Ti amo e sono un cinico; tu mi odi e hai ideali che io non condividerò mai.
Non posso fare altro che sperare di un giorno dove il caffè che ti offro ogni giorno, sarà il nostro per sempre.
The gruff entrepreneur approached his clients In roguish manner, unlike his rival counterparts. Despite of his many shortcomings, he earned a handsome amount each year, besides having managed to expand his business threefold in the last decade.
Does this mean having people skills is a mythical requirement for aspiring entrepreneurs?
I’d say it certainly is an added benefit, but manipulation is a lot better.
Clients can be difficult. They are hard to please and always want more than you can offer. Clients can be customers. They say the customer is always right. Thats a lie. A customer isn’t always right.
“You are my most loyal client, darling.”
The doctor winked at me, his mouth curved into a smirk.
Clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients. clients,clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, clients, why do I have to talk about clients? I’m still to young to have clients anyway.
The office was tucked into some shady corner on some shady street. The carpet reeked of cigarettes. A woman slept behind the counter, spilled wine dripping over the forms on her desk. And the girl sighed and walked in.
Client like supreme clientele, drug sales, legal dope. Music. I use to be heavy in the game, now I’m trying to get back in it.
he is our number one. everything what we are doing is because of him. he is our highest boss an we are going to make our client satisfied and happy
After two months, Doyle had settled in to a neat little pattern. He would receive a brief, to the point message from the man he now referred to as “the puppeteer”, every week or so, giving the name of the target and the information to use against him. A few weeks of online research, phone calls, some eavesdropping in Washington bars, and within a month he would have composed a plan of action, which he would then review with his client, and put into action. This cycle had been going on for a full six months now, and almost a hundred more would come under his scrutiny before the election in November. After the screw up with Governor Crowe, he now suggested that candidates should not openly resign, but simply “decide not to run again” when their candidacy came up. That would make the press less likely to inquire as to the reason for their retirement, and it would keep them off his back too. It would also make it too late for any quality replacements to be found or groomed, so that the puppeteer’s stable of young hopefuls could step up to the plate practically unopposed.
The client walked in. They were shorter than I imagined. Hearing that gruff voice over the phone made me picture a giant on the other end of the line. Regardless, his demeanor was intimidation. He had some demands, and we were going to fulfill them.
He was the first client. The first in months to enter the little store. “.45 bullets?”, he asked.
“I’m afraid we only have .22”
And the man exited the building, to the dark wrecked world outside.
The client came in. The same types of problems he had been having last week. I told him several times to try and work through his issues as I assigned him to stop being so shy and try to talk to people. He just became more quiet and reserved than he had been before.
the client lent their selves to an extensive contract,
oh yes they did, without a stern frown, there they were, signining,
but how can we deem this client true of the delight we endure,
a man with a pen is a man with charge for the future,
as we surge ahead, we dread like a bed without a sheet,
a man without a shirt,
like the latter, we wear raw life!
The client was silent before her. Narrowing her eyes, Clara licked her dry lips. The air reeked of stale air and long forgotten coffee. “Well?” The word echoed through the dilapidated office. The client coughed, dark curls bouncing. He cleared his throat and wiped his cigarette stained fingers over his jeans. “I need you to help me find my friend.”
Someone who you work with; a business relationship between the seller and buyer; someone that you cater to and treat well in a business setting. No matter what’s in the business exchange with cameras and other spy-like device. Anyways..
Someone who you work with; a business relationship between the seller and buyer; someone that you cater to and treat well in a business setting. My client was a yoga man with long hair and a rocking roll band.
he dresses up every day. suite, waistcoat, tie, belt, shoes to match. he stands before the mirror and slicks back his hair, practices his smile, practices his spiel. he’ll own the client one day, he’s sure
She had tens of clients and she knew each of their names and faces, but not many of them really stood out to her. The few that did were mostly the ones who were over-the-top loud or happy- whom she wanted to stay away from after a long day at work, Though, there was a quiet girl who was interesting. She had been with the Guild for a few years and was an Elite member. She had come in one day asking if a Droid could join as her partner.
Good
There was a client – a very rude one, by the way -, that came to the store to complain about a product which he have broken and was try to decive the staff saying that the product had a deffect from factory.
It is a person who buys in a supermarket or in a store for example. It a person who used buy in a place or a person that sell something.
The client relied heavily on highlighters and pencils with crappy erasures. We waited all week to receive the draft and when we did it looked like
The client entered the room with almost perfect precision, not a hair out of place. It was all I could do not to snort into my tea, because how a person like that had even managed to get here without being robbed blind was a mystery that would likely never be solved.
plotting on a way to get clients, maybe i should be little more compliant, form my words fully n tone down the violence, i subject them to when ever i start rhyming
OMG
I’ve just been thinking about my future clients. How I can bless them in advance just for being who thay are. HERE and NOW. In the world.
I don’t know them. They don’t know me.
Or maybe I already know them AND they already know me.
There will be a before AND an after.
Before they were someone and I was no one to them.
AFTER they’ll be my CLIENTS and I’ll be their COACH.
the client need more insurance coverage ,I will call them back tomorrow. Another client need to get homeowners insurance effective tomorrow what do I do to get this ready for the client
The brunette shook her long tousled hair over one of her shoulder and walked briskly into the employee break room. Her last appointment hadn’t been one of her more pleasant ones. The client had been hairy and prone to making grotesque noises, all while calling her unsavory names. She was thankful she was a new masseuse and therefore wasn’t yet allowed to give her clients the “full treatment”. For someone who made a living giving happy endings, her own ending was far from satisfactory.
Treat me like a client.
Keep my secrets,
answer my phone calls,
show genuine interest in my problems –
but most of all, worry about losing me
and the love I spend like cash.
The young woman approaches the silent man in the lobby. Glancing at the shifting figure with an uneasy glare. His gaze catches hers in surprise.
cut rate cut budget cut the crap
client contained budget rap
cellophane wrapped
contained contract
how much money you pay is equal to the representation
you deserve
that, sad client is the final word.
This sample came from a record out of my late Grandmother’s collection. Flipping the 3 bar intro on this song paid rent, child support and kicked off the career of my dreams. Until recently, I thought it was hard work, relentlessness and being too dumb to take NO for an answer that helped me sell this beat. Recently I’ve come to realize that the only person on earth that gave me unconditional love was still with me; guiding, loving and pushing me- many years after she passed. RIPMaManFiFie
“Are you my client?”
I stared at the woman who was supposed to be my lawyer. She didn’t look any older than twenty, but something about the way she held herself and the way her eyebrows knit together in that professionally curious frown told me she had a lot more years on her than I thought. Without saying anything else, she led me into her tiny yet air conditioned office and offered me a piece of gum.
“It’s cinnamon,” she admitted when I declined. “I know most people don’t like cinnamon, but I like a good kick in my teeth once in a while.”