MaryAnn Maxwell and her Incredible Earlobes - Part 1

Jack Kay was short. He was fat. And he was bald. Not balding, mind you. Not a man with two bushy clumps of hair connected by thin strands of comb-over magic. Dead on, cue ball, hairless bald. Almost. He did have thick, bushy eyebrows, and a more than respectful three day shadow covering his face. There were at least two dozen strands of hair emanating from each ear, and a dozen short hairs poking through from his nose.

So he had hair. It was just in the wrong place. And no matter how many times he joined the Hair Club for Men or tried different products that worked on TV, the top of his head, from ear to ear, was smooth.

Jack had married twice. The first time, when he had a full head of hair, and was a promising law student who wanted to change the world and make it a better place. She left him as the first signs of baldness reared their head, but not because he was balding. She could live with a bald man. No, she just couldn’t stand living with a man who claimed to be a democrat and wanted to help people, and spent his working hours defending insurance companies. That, and she was sleeping with at least four other men.

By the time Jack met his second wife, he was balding. She hadn't left him yet, but she could not believe how quickly he went from balding to bald. She wondered if this would affect their children, and when she held their first born son and kissed his amooth shiny bald head, she thought, hmm, just like daddy..

But as I mentioned, Jack was not just completely bald, he was also fat. Very fat. The kind of fat that doesn't do obese justice. The kind of fat where people had to actually go around him when they wanted to pass in a hallway. The kind of fat where he had to literally lift up the layers of fat that hung below his waste when he made love to his wife.

And of course, he was short. Not midget-dwarf short, just too short for his weight and his bald head. Tall bald men can try to hide their baldness. Jack could not. Everyone taller than an average eight year old had a bird's eye view of this incredibly fat, bald man who wanted to save the world but instead found himself representing insurance companies and screwing accident victims.

At first, it bothered Jack. But when his client was being sued by a man who slipped on a bowling alley lane and slid all the way down to the pin sorter where he lost his leg, Jack figured that victim deserved it. Anyone who managed to slide all the way down the lane and lose a limb did not deserve any money from his deep-pocketed clients. This was nature eliminating the weak.

Jack was a great attorney. It is hard to imagine how someone who was 4'11" and weighed 390 with a perspiring, reflective head could dominate in a courtroom, but you just don't know Jack. He would poke fun at himself, and play the victim, and sway the jury to see things the same way he did.

Jurors would describe him as a ball with arms, legs and a head sticking out, but time after time, they would side with his insurance company clients.

Because he was so fat, and so short, Jack had some problems. With his stomach pressed right up against the desk, his arms were still a solid 24 inches away from the desk. And being that he was a little man, his arms were only about so inches long in the first place. Which meant that almost anything on his desk was out of reach. He had a specially designed keyboard stand that fit on his stomach so he could type without having to exert himself. But he had two secretaries on call at all times. One, named Sharon, who helped him drink his coffee and the second, named Julie, who wiped up all the crumbs the rolled over his three chins and landed on his computer keyboard.

Jack had never imagined he would have two secretaries, even though in law school everyone joked that they needed two. One who could actually get work done and one who could provide company in the late evenings spent at the firm.

All in all, Jack was pretty happy the way things had turned out.

Until that day she walked into his life.

He had heard of her, of course. She was suing one of his biggest and most important clients. Her name was MaryAnn Maxwell, and just her name brought back warm memories of a childhood spent watching Gilligan’s Island and dreaming about being marooned with Maryann.

MaryAnn had been the world’s top ear model. Her lobes, plush and full, without being too fat or large, had been pictured in fashion magazines around the world. She modeled huggers and hangers, loops and studs, and sold millions of earrings to young girls caught up in the pursuit of perfection.

Men would dream about spending the night sucking on those supple ear lobes, while girls begged their plastic surgeons to add just a bit more collagen to turn their lobes into MaryAnn Maxwells.

She had traveled the world, living among the glitterati. It was a charmed life.

All that was before the tragic accident of May 17. She was scheduled to walk the runway in Paris, wearing Diamond earrings from the Jasper collection, when the post scratched her lobe. It caused a mild abrasion, so slight that few would have noticed. Except MaryAnn Maxwell. Her ears were the most photographed in the world, and the tiniest cut could end her career.

Two weeks later, at a photo shoot in Maui, the photographer was unable to get a decent picture, and for the first time in MaryAnn Maxwell’s career, she was relegated to the page with 16 other earrings and sixteen other ears. MaryAnn Maxwell’s career as a top earlobe model was done. The new girl was a young bubbly young thing with a trimmer lobe named Candice Jones.

The party invitations dried up, and MaryAnn Maxwell’s days as the ear lobe glamour girl were over.

And that is when she decided to sue the Jasper Collection for punitive damages and emotional distress. She claimed that she had been injured while putting the earring on, an injury that cost her millions of dollars in future earnings.

The Jasper Collection’s insurance agency said they weren’t paying, and hired Jack Kay to represent them.

That it was extremely unethical to have MaryAnn Maxwell in his office didn’t matter right now. Jack could barely hear what she was saying. All he could do was keep staring at her voluptuous ear lobes, and fantasizing about sucking on those lobes until she moaned like a little kitten.

She asked him something, and he said yes, but he had no idea what she was saying. Then she shook his hand, patted his bald, sweaty head, and left the office.

The preceding story was fiction.