the corporate man

One of the more interesting characters in the world of the agent b files is The Corporate Man.

Nobody would have ever matched the two of us up. We don’t look like the kind of guys that would hang around each other. He’s a fairly known businessman in town. His name and face are on billboards and such. This is odd because he’s the most quiet and extremely humble man I know. But the face recognition goes with his job. He has no choice.

The other day I saw his face on the side of a bus. I gave him hell for that one.

I’ve known of him loosely for several years. He use to be a heavy supporter of the izzy group ministry (that Agent Wife and I were once part of) and later served on its advisory board in what I’d consider a traditional deacon role (a resource finder).

In recent years, CM and I have slowly become friends in a coffee drinking sort of way. We gather once or twice a month for coffee. He chooses to keep active tabs on my family and our undercover role in the fair mother city. Much like a confidant or fellow agent in a different role, he knows much of my daily activities, asks hard questions, and so forth.

The Corporate Man is not a sugar daddy. I have never sought missionary support from him. However, he’s been overly generous by offering things like the use of his vehicle for out-of-town road trips to see our family. He also was one of the many donors in the Obi-Wan eyeglasses ordeal last summer.

So recently we met for coffee. I have been working on my master plan that earns cash and fights injustice simultaneously that has yet to be announced. CM is well aware of these plans and possibly wants to join in as a partner of sorts. So I found what I thought could be our first step in making this plan a reality.

CM could not join me in this first step. His excuse: he just paid for himself to go to bomb detonating school.

He wants to be a level one ammunitions expert and spend 30-60 days a year flying himself to war torn nations and help teams clear land mine fields. He doesn’t want poor kids losing limbs anymore.

My response: “Well...I guess that’s a good enough excuse to not join my master plan.”

Most people in CM’s line of work would spend 30-60 days a year out on a golf course. He hopes to be fully trained and sacrificing office time to eliminate the by-products of war. And he’d kill me if he knew I was writing about this on the internet. I think I’m one of five who know about this.

All the best to you Corporate Man. Glad you’re my confidant.