Pleasant Moo Farms Ch. 01-02

CHAPTER 1 - The Position

Alex had seen the ad on Craigslist.

DAIRY FARM SEEKS SELF-STARTER FOR MARKETING POSITION

Having graduated six months earlier with a marketing degree, and also having no luck whatsoever finding a job for himself, he decided to give the listed number a call. What did he have to lose? Yes, the farm was an hour outside of the city, far from the apartment he shared with his friend, Nick, but he needed the money. Nick had already covered Alex's half of the rent this month and judging from his recent silence was growing impatient with his jobless compadre.

A bubbly, country-twang of a voice answered his call. "Oh, the marketing job? Can ya come in on Friday at three pm? I'll give ya a tour and orient you."

"I can do that. But aren't you going to do a phone interview?"

"Ha! What would I do that fer. You sound perfect. Come by at three. See ya then."

This didn't bode well.

CHAPTER 2 - Pleasant Moo

"And right over here our dairy hand Rex is attaching the milk machines. Just look at him go!"

Alex ate a spoonful of ice cream and acted interested in the row of cows with bulging udders.

"Each cow will pump around seven gallons today during three daily milkings. Our cows are some of the most productive milkers this side of the state. Hehe." Darleen, the lady who had taken his call-a thick, kindly blonde women with a bounce in her step, and, in Alex's estimation, not a thought between her ears, was in tour mode.

Alex sighed. Pleasant Moo Farms was the typical country tourist trap. Self-pick gardens, hay rides, corn maze, barn dancehall, and ice creamery. It was a place he would have loved as a child but held no interest for him anymore. He was serious. Serious about getting some cash in his bank account.

Rex was a dark, muscular farm hand with a brooding gait. Alex watched him fix nozzles to each nipple. A tangle of black hoses filled the floor like tentacles, their metallic pumping nozzles churning away. Pumping. Producing. The room was abuzz with the mechanical click-clacking of each nozzle methodically pulling and releasing every teat in the room over and over, filling vats with warm liquid one squirt at a time. The nozzles were cold, calculating, and consistent.

Click, clack, click clack.

Squeeze.

Release.

Squeeze.

Release.

Alex eyed a nozzle curiously.

I can't believe I'm wondering what it would feel like to put my dick in a milk machine.

Alex caught Rex looking at him coldly, directly in the eye. Something about his gaze felt ominous. Rex fixed another nozzle to another teat, never breaking his gaze. Alex was interrupted by Darleen's chirping voice.

"All right! That's it for the tour. Let's head back to the office and talk to Don."


"Ok."


Darleen walked ahead and rolled her eyes. City boys. Not a thought in their heads.


Alex and Darleen walked to the door of the old converted farmhouse that served as the offices for Pleasant Moo.

"Just leave your shoes on the porch. Don't want to track mud in."

Alex pulled off one shoe and went for the other, only to realize his socks didn't match. Great. Inside the door, sitting on a green couch out of the 1970s was a lanky man in dark blue overalls reading a magazine. Organic Dairyman Monthly. There's a magazine for everything.

"This must be the new recruit!"

"Shore is, Don. This is Alex from the city," Darleen said as she hung her coat on a metal coat hook in the shape of an upturned gooses head. Don threw the magazine aside and stood up. He was tall. His face was craggy, but warm.

"Well hey there Alex-from-the-City, put 'er there!" They shook hands. Alex's bones crunched under Don's firm grip.

"I'm excited about the job." No, he wasn't.

"I'm glad to hear it, glad to hear it..." Don's voice trailed off. He eyed Alex up and down. "Nice socks."

"So the ad said this was a marketing job. I have a marketing degree and have experience in social media campaigns, print, graphics, advertis—."

"Easy there, Alex-from-the-City. Right now I just need someone to wear the suit and spin the sign."

"Wear the suit? Spin the sign?"

Don looked at Darleen with a wink and kicked a weathered cardboard box that was sitting next to the disco couch into the middle of the floor.
"Wear the suit..." Don gestured to the box. Alex saw a familiar furry, brown and white pattern peeking through the box. "And spin the sign." Don pointed across the room proudly. A sign lay in the corner. It was arrow shaped and printed with the words:

PLEASANT MOO FARMS FREE MILK TASTING

"What the fuck? That's the marketing position?"

"Watch your language, boy, this is a family-friendly establishment. And, yes, it damn well is a marketing position. It's the best kinda marketing we can get." Don made a steering wheel gesture with his hands. "A family's driving by. They see you out there in that suit. They see you spinning that sign and dancing about. They laugh. The kids get excited. 'Daddy, daddy, can we go to the farm!' We sell em milk, produce, knick knacks, a 'Traditional Country Experience.' Then back to the city to watch TV and stress about nothing."

"I have to go." Alex was livid. He stormed out the door and sat in a rocking chair on the front porch to put his shoes on. This is what his years of college was coming to—a job spinning signs on the side of the road. Don followed after.

"Now hold on there, City-boy Alex. This is a fine job. A bottle of free milk once a week..."

"I don't want free milk. I need a real job. I have a real degree. I need to use it." Alex juggled a muddy shoe.


"Fifteen bucks an hour. Six days a week. Six hours a day with two breaks."

Alex's ears perked up. "Fifteen?"

"Fifteen."

Maybe he was being a tad rash. He was desperate. He did need money. This was, admittedly, easy cash. He could do with it while he found the next job.

"Can I listen to music while I'm out there?"

"You can listen all you want. As long as you're dancing like a happy cow." Don smiled at Alex.

"Okay. I'll do it." Alex couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. His only consolation was that maybe he could dance to books on tape just so his mind wouldn't rot.

"That's what I wanted to hear! Darleen, give this boy the suit and get his information! And don't forget the sign!" Don called into the office door. Darleen appeared with a lump of white and brown fur, the sign, and a form. Alex filled out the form with his information while Don blabbered on.

"Now boy, you take this suit home. You have all weekend. Try it on. Get used to it. Get into character. Twirl the sign. Get excited about selling my milk. You start Monday at 8. See you then."

Don shook Alex's hand, another bone breaker.

"And look, boy...if you do this job well, we can talk about the Facebooks and the Tweeter, all right?"

With that Don strode back into the office and gave Darleen a hard smack on the butt before plopping down on the couch.

"All right."

Alex put the sign under his arm, looked down at the suit in his hands, and sighed.