{"id":131371,"date":"2018-04-10T00:44:01","date_gmt":"2018-04-10T00:44:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/?p=131371"},"modified":"2023-11-04T15:06:25","modified_gmt":"2023-11-04T15:06:25","slug":"doing-business","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/?p=131371","title":{"rendered":"Doing business"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The lift was crowded, and Bertrand felt sorry for the tramp squeezing his way from passenger to passenger with his dirty hat.  The fellow looked more deserving than some he could name.  But it was money; Bertrand looked away, hoping the tramp wouldn\u2019t get to him.  Then the lift stopped with a, ding!, everyone else got out, and the tramp confronted him squarely.  \u201cAny change, gov\u2019nor?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand dug into his pocket and handed over a pound coin with as good grace as he could muster.  And as he stepped out into the twelfth floor lobby of Brascobank, heading for  Operations, he heard a wheezed, \u201cThank you\u201d.<\/p>\n<p>There were no more thank-yous that morning.  None from the Chief Executive\u2019s hustlers shaking their collection boxes (one pound each), nor from Sandra with her biscuits at reception (fifty pee), nor from Bill the security guard with his sandwiches (two pounds each).  Bernard didn\u2019t fancy the sandwiches, and he dropped one into the hat of Big John, who sat in the corridor leading to Operations, huge limbs tucked up under his chin, and at least gave a grateful nod.  <\/p>\n<p>Bertrand tried to give the other sandwich to his boss Irene in exchange for one of her cakes (\u2018Freshly-baked \u2013 Family to support!\u2019), but it was returned with a firm smile, and he had to dig into his pocket (another pound \u2013 and the cake was gooey!).  The sandwich was no more use with Cindy when she accosted him, scantily-clad, in the corridor.  And Bertrand didn\u2019t even try it with Sam and Chaz from Accounts \u2013 who, like Scylla and Charybdis, threatened passers-by from either side of the narrow aisle.  <\/p>\n<p>\u201cCome on guys, I\u2019ve got deals to process,\u201d Bertrand appealed.<\/p>\n<p>It was no use.  \u201cWe\u2019re here to help,\u201d Sam said, manoeuvring between Bertrand and his cubicle.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWe protect you,\u201d said Chaz.  \u201cAnd we make sure your deals get booked,\u201d he added with a wink.<\/p>\n<p>There was nothing for it: Bertrand fished out another pound.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTa!\u201d said Sam, closing his palm on the coin.  \u201cAnd one more.\u201d  He held out his other hand.  <\/p>\n<p>Bertrand grimaced, tried his pocket again, but found only a fifty pence piece.  This time Sam closed his fist, so the coin bounced off his knuckles onto the floor.  <\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot getting cheap, are we?\u201d  Chaz came up menacingly.<\/p>\n<p>Exasperated, Bertrand pulled a fiver from his wallet and asked for change.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019ll do nicely,\u201d Chaz said, snatching the banknote.  \u201cPleasure to do business with you.\u201d  And he and his mate lumbered off down the aisle to shake down someone else.<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand stood fuming as he looked after the departing pair.  If he were five years younger\u2026.  But discretion \u2013 and the hope that he could now get on with his work \u2013 took the better part of valour: he stayed by his cubicle.  Yet it hurt.  Sixteen quid down just getting to his desk \u2013 and the whole day still ahead.  It made working a marginal proposition, as his wife would say.<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand switched on his PC, and as he sat down, Brasco\u2019s motto, \u2018Let\u2019s do business!\u2019, whirled across the screen.  He felt something on the seat; he looked down, and it was the sandwich, rather squashed in its clingfilm wrap.  He might as well give that to Big John too, along with Irene\u2019s cake.  <\/p>\n<p>Then Irene came by and asked for sponsorship for her daughter\u2019s school fees.<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand groaned.  \u201cAren\u2019t you supposed to\u2026\u201d  (how to put it to his own boss?) \u201c\u2026to give me something in return?  Like a business thing?\u201d  Brasco was trying to encourage entrepreneurialism, but this was just extortion.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIf you want to make an issue of it\u2026,\u201d Irene said, fingering her jewellery.  <\/p>\n<p><em>Well!<\/em>  Bertrand, on the brink, considered doing just that.  But he needed the job, and the whistle-blower programme was hardly secure (and you had to pay there too).  No, he had to swallow it.  Taking out his wallet, he asked the going rate.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhatever you like.  It\u2019s voluntary, and much appreciated,\u201d Irene murmured, fixing him with a steady gaze.<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand found a fiver, and to his relief that was enough.  With a little sniff his boss took herself off, skirt swishing down the aisle.<\/p>\n<p>Smarting under this latest blow, Bertrand didn\u2019t even see Internal Audit.  Only a discreet cough alerted him to yet another caller on his finances.  He didn\u2019t have to pretend when he said he was cleaned out, and so Internal Audit took himself off whistling, with a promise to be back the following day.<\/p>\n<p>What a start to the morning!  Bertrand struggled to get into his work.  As lunchtime approached, his eye fell on the squashed sandwich and the cake which still lay sadly on his desk.  And he had an idea.<br \/>\n<!--more--><\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>Big John eyed Irene\u2019s cake morosely; he took a bite and then, shrugging, another bite.  He was sitting next to Bertrand on a bench in the local park.  \u201cI\u2019m not sure I can do it,\u201d he mumbled though the cake, flapping a hand at the sparrows which were quarrelling over the crumbs.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOf course you can!\u201d  Bertrand patted the broad shoulders.  \u201cYou don\u2019t like them, do you?  Think of Chaz and Sam,\u201d (he had seen them step over Big John without giving him anything) \u201cit\u2019s a chance to get your own back.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Big John did begin to look more resolute.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s my man!\u201d Bertrand encouraged him.  \u201cI\u2019ll give you a fiver a day to protect me \u2013 and on top of that, you keep half of anything you make.\u201d  He didn\u2019t have very high hopes, but anything was worth a try.  <\/p>\n<p>Bertrand\u2019s wife Joan, when he saw her that evening, was in full agreement.  \u201cWe\u2019ve got to do something.  I got stung at the school gate for a contribution to the teachers\u2019 pension fund.  And what are the teachers doing?  Jason\u201d (this was their son) \u201cwas learning to play Extortion with his friends this afternoon.  They shouldn\u2019t have to learn that by themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Her husband said that the education system left a lot to be desired.<\/p>\n<p>The following morning Big John, looking even taller shaved and in a proper suit, was waiting at Brasco\u2019s entrance.  Bertrand was impressed \u2013 although he did feel a twinge when his new assistant bundled the tramp out of the lift.  But he had no qualms when the CE\u2019s henchmen got the same treatment, nor when they marched past an open-mouthed Sandra at reception, nor when Bill stepped aside for them in the corridor.  There, however, stood Sam and Chaz, folded arms.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThought I paid you guys off yesterday,\u201d Bertrand said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cToday is another day,\u201d Chaz leered, palm held out.  \u201cAnd extra for your assistant.\u201d  He glanced scornfully at Big John.<\/p>\n<p><em>Whomp!<\/em>  Years of being spurned and stepped over obviously boiled up in Big John; he put his head down and charged.  Sam, who caught the main impact, was carried fully two cubicles up the aisle, while Chaz clung gasping to the partition.  Big John was gearing up for another charge when Bertrand held him back.  So the giant consoled himself by picking Chaz up by the lapels and demanding, \u201ca fiver for the gov\u2019nor\u201d.  <\/p>\n<p>Chaz coughed up, as did Sam after similar encouragement.  The pair limped off, and Big John proudly presented the two five pound notes to his boss.<\/p>\n<p>Cautious at this unexpected success, Bertrand considered the two notes.  Was this really sustainable?  On impulse he folded them, and slipped them into his assistant\u2019s breast pocket.  \u201cThat\u2019s today\u2019s pay,\u201d he said, \u201cand a bonus for you on top.  Keep up the good work!\u201d  And the smile that beamed from Big John\u2019s face then made it all worthwhile.  <\/p>\n<p>The only fly in the ointment, Bertrand reflected as they reached his cubicle, was his boss.  What would Irene make of it?<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>The morning was quiet.  Word had obviously spread, and anyone had only to see Big John patrolling the aisle to guess what was up.  Perhaps the slowest to cotton on was Internal Audit who, arriving by chance when Big John was at one end of the aisle, actually reached Bertrand\u2019s cubicle.  A quick shake-down on the giant\u2019s return produced the statutory fiver, and he had to promise a clean audit opinion into the bargain.  No one came by to sell their cakes or sandwiches or sexual services, the drug dealers stayed away, and Bertrand got his work done in record time.  <\/p>\n<p>        By the day\u2019s end, he was beginning to think that it was almost too quiet, when he saw a white flag waving from the bend in the corridor.  Big John went to investigate, and brought back a nervous Cindy, now formally dressed and tiny beside her captor.  \u201cIrene would like to talk to you, Bertrand,\u201d she said, flashing an anxious smile at Big John.  The giant inclined his head.  <\/p>\n<p>The following morning, Bertrand found himself seated on Irene\u2019s sofa, drinking tea brought by Cindy, while Big John stood solidly beside him.  <\/p>\n<p>Irene was all warmth.  \u201cWhat marvellous entrepreneurial spirit, in the best traditions of Brasco!\u201d  She glanced admiringly at Big John, who folded his arms complacently and who, Bertrand was beginning to realise, did have a weak spot when it came to the ladies.  \u201cAnd, if you don\u2019t mind my asking, how much have you made?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand told her.  In fact, apart from Chaz and Sam\u2019s contributions and Internal Audit\u2019s, there had been only one further receipt \u2013 a fiver from the Head of Institutional Sales who came through by mistake but got shaken down just the same.  Bertrand wondered if Irene would want a share.  She was, he saw, even more smartly dressed than the previous day \u2013 that chain was surely solid gold, and weren\u2019t those diamonds?  <\/p>\n<p>        Yet Irene\u2019s focus was elsewhere.  \u201cWhat I want to ask is, what are your plans?  Where do you go from here?\u201d <\/p>\n<p>Bernard shrugged.  Wasn\u2019t it enough to be able to work in peace?<\/p>\n<p>        \u201cOh, but you can\u2019t stop!\u201d Irene exclaimed.  \u201cYou\u2019re on to a winner, you can\u2019t give up now.  How are you going to feed <em>him<\/em>?\u201d  She glanced at Big John.<\/p>\n<p>        \u201cAnd another thing,\u201d she lowered her voice, \u201cthey won\u2019t cooperate with you.  Legal, HR, even Accounts \u2013 have you heard from them?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>        Bertrand hadn\u2019t.  It had been too quiet.  <\/p>\n<p>        Irene leant forward so that he could see that even her glasses had gold frames.  \u201cYou\u2019ve got a tiger by the tail, you can\u2019t let go.  The only thing is to ride it.  And I can help.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>        \u201cYou can?\u201d  Bertrand blinked.  Help was the last thing he expected from his boss.<\/p>\n<p>        \u201cHelp you expand,\u201d Irene explained.  \u201cIt\u2019s expand or die!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>        This was too dramatic for Bertrand.  He wanted time to think about it, but time, according to Irene, was the one thing he didn\u2019t have.  \u201cI need to know whether you are with me or against me,\u201d she said.  \u201cI need to know now.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>        Bertrand heard Big John shift his feet.  He knew he had no choice.<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>Irene\u2019s first idea was a raid on Accounts.  \u201cFollow through while the enemy is in retreat,\u201d she said.  \u201cPursue and destroy!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDestroy?\u201d Bertrand gulped.  This was really taking him out of his comfort zone.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDestroy,\u201d Irene said firmly.  <\/p>\n<p>So destroy it was, although how much destroying Cindy would be able to do in her high heels was the question that came to Bertrand\u2019s mind as he stumped along behind her and Big John on the way to Accounts.<\/p>\n<p>In the event, Cindy proved her worth.  She engaged Sam in conversation while Big John came up silently from behind and downed him with a lever-arch file.  \u201cShould have digitised your records, shouldn\u2019t you?\u201d Cindy said, prodding the inert figure with her toe.   <\/p>\n<p>Chaz, cowering in his office, was dragged out before his astonished staff.  Big John hauled him off down the corridor and bundled him into the rubbish chute, where he was shortly followed by Sam.  Bertrand\u2019s assistant then glared at the rest of the department, but there were no more takers.  So he went round collecting a fiver from each of them, which yielded a handy hundred-and-fifty quid (\u201cI had no idea Accounts was so large,\u201d Bertrand remarked to Cindy) \u2013 and then went round again for good measure.  A search revealed considerably more stashed away in various cubicles.  And that was before they ransacked Chaz\u2019s office.  Altogether, it was a real sackful of cash that Big John swung onto Chaz\u2019s table.  Cindy counted out three thousand pounds in notes and coins.  <\/p>\n<p>Bertrand split the haul four ways, taking his own share and Irene\u2019s.  Leaving Cindy in charge of Accounts, he and Big John strolled back to their boss.<\/p>\n<p>Irene was pleased at the afternoon\u2019s work, although she queried the seven hundred and fifty pounds that Bertrand produced as her share.  But Bertrand was firm.  The staff had done the work and deserved their reward.  And there was still the ongoing flow of earnings from Accounts to come.  Mollified, Irene let them off for the rest of the day.<\/p>\n<p>Outside her office, Big John turned to his boss.  \u201cI like working with you,\u201d he grinned.<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>After that excitement, the corridors of Brascobank settled into a certain routine.  The Accounts staff, firmly under Cindy\u2019s control, paid up their daily fiver without a murmur.  The staff in the neighbouring departments on the twelfth floor paid daily tribute as well, on Bertrand\u2019s insistence at a \u2018friendship\u2019 rate of one pound.  He also insisted, against Big John\u2019s protestations, that they engage an assistant \u2013 and Bill the security guard was found to be the ideal candidate (\u201cHe can make you sandwiches\u201d).  So each morning, the two large men did the rounds of their floor together.<\/p>\n<p>Meanwhile, Cindy had been working hard.  She introduced a booking fee (flat rate) for every entry into the accounting records, and a service fee (ad valorem) for every payment.  There were objections from some departments, but when Big John and Bill went round to explain, the objections were somehow smoothed away \u2013 although Bertrand, whose office was next to the rubbish chute, realised it was not as easy as it looked, and made sure that the hardworking pair were properly rewarded.  He himself was getting his share of the various tributes.  There didn\u2019t seem to be anything coming in from Cindy\u2019s side, presumably Irene was looking after that, but he wasn\u2019t concerned about the money, he was just glad to be able to work in peace.  <\/p>\n<p>And so it went on.  Irene fidgeted, demanding this and that, but Bertrand managed to dissuade her from further adventures.  That is, until Big John stopped outside his cubicle one day.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI feel I should be doing something more,\u201d his assistant mused, rubbing his chin with a gigantic fist.  \u201cDon\u2019t feel I\u2019m pulling my weight, like.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut you\u2019re doing very well,\u201d Bertrand protested.  \u201cYou\u2019re making good money, you\u2019re Director of Security,\u201d (at his insistence, Irene had leant on HR) \u201cyou\u2019re keeping the peace.  What more could you want?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPeace?\u201d  Big John raised his eyes to the ceiling.  \u201cThose buggers on the fifteenth floor,\u201d (this was the senior management) \u201cI don\u2019t trust \u2019em.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>With a sinking heart, Bertrand realised he had a point.  He thanked his assistant, and went straight to Irene.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAbsolutely!\u201d  Irene\u2019s spectacles glinted.  \u201cJust ask yourself, if it were your company, would you let a couple of upstarts in Operations carve out an empire?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand murmured something about entrepreneurial culture.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cEntrepreneurial my foot!  That\u2019s about us making money for them, not the other way around.  Do you realise that Cindy\u2019s Accounts team charged the Chief Executive\u2019s Office ten thousand for a loan repayment yesterday?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand hadn\u2019t realised.  \u201cI didn\u2019t even know Cindy\u2013\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, well, anyway,\u201d Irene hurried on.  \u201cWhat are we going to do about it?  That\u2019s the question.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand could see where this was going.  \u201cI\u2019m not sure we can do another raid,\u201d he said nervously.  They had some pretty big people up on the fifteenth floor, not to mention guns.  He didn\u2019t want his staff getting hurt.  And could they even get in?  \u201cThere\u2019s heavy-duty kit up there.  Steel grills, concrete bunkers, you name it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p> \u201cI wasn\u2019t thinking of a raid,\u201d Irene said softly.  She made a phone call.  And a few moments later in walked the petite figure of Cindy.<\/p>\n<hr>\n<p>Big John, when Bertrand explained his role to him, was ecstatic.  \u201cI knew it, I knew it!\u201d he cried, almost crushing Bertrand in a delighted hug.  \u201cI knew you\u2019d come up with something.  Action at last!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was less pleased when told that he would have to contribute his earnings.  But Irene was adamant.  \u201cEverything has to go into the pot,\u201d she insisted, \u201cwe have to make a clean sweep.\u201d  And she herself threw in the ten thousand Cindy had got from the CE Office.  Bertrand followed with his own more modest accumulation, whereupon Big John heaved a sigh and threw in his (\u201cEasy come, easy go\u201d).  Bill, who had only just started making real money, was the most upset of all.  \u201cI\u2019ve got <em>commitments<\/em>,\u201d he confided through tears.  Bertrand promised to make him whole again if they came through the venture in one piece.<\/p>\n<p>The essence of Irene\u2019s plan was unconditional surrender.  \u201cWe can\u2019t beat them, so we\u2019ll join them,\u201d she explained to their core group.  \u201cWe give them everything we\u2019ve taken, as if it had all been done on their behalf.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Wondering if the senior management would fall for it, Bertrand helped with the preparations.<\/p>\n<p>When all had been done, they filed into the fifteenth floor lobby, heads down, looking contrite.  There was a sticky moment when Big John wheeled in the trolley with its sack of money: the Chief Financial Officer almost pushed him aside in his haste to get at the loot.  But Big John kept his cool, delivering the sack safely to the strong room under the guardianship of the CE\u2019s Personal Assistant Macy.  After a dressing-down by the CE in front of the assembled cronies and toughs of the C-suite, Irene and her colleagues were allowed to file out and return to the relative safety of the twelfth floor.<\/p>\n<p>That evening, Bertrand led Big John and a puzzled Bill via the fire escape back up to the fifteenth floor.  There they were greeted by a determined-looking Cindy \u2013 who rose several notches in Bertrand\u2019s estimation.  \u201cWhat the\u2026?\u201d Bill exclaimed, but was hushed by his colleagues with the promise of an explanation later.  Cindy led them through the security doors, past the discarded money sack (in which she had hidden) and the trussed and gagged Macy, into the CE\u2019s antechamber.  <\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat you, Macy?\u201d the CE called through the door.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m just bringing in the papers,\u201d Cindy squeaked, in a passable imitation of Macy\u2019s voice.  <\/p>\n<p>Then they rushed him.  <\/p>\n<p>With Bill stationed at the outer door, Big John had a brief interview with the CE \u2013 as a result of which the latter gave up the strong room keys and expressed no further interest in running the company.  That just left the CFO, Bertrand recalled anxiously.  <\/p>\n<p>\u201cBeen done!\u201d said Bill, dusting down his jacket as he entered the room, and earning an appreciative clap on the back from Big John.  And when they went to look, it had.<\/p>\n<p>They called Irene.  But not before they had opened the strong room door and separated the money there into four piles \u2013 all the while broadcasting the spectacle by video streamed to the enterprise intranet.  By the time Irene arrived, a crowd of staff were gawping at the cash, and more were arriving by the minute.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2026This pile is for the Rescue Team,\u201d Bertrand was announcing to the crowd, \u201cand this one for the incoming CE.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There were mutterings from the audience.  Someone shouted, \u201cIs that fair?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2026And this pile is for the staff,\u201d Bertrand continued.  The mutterings turned to a roar, and the staff surged forward, to be held back by Big John.  <\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat about the last pile?\u201d someone else called.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat is for the staff pension fund,\u201d said Bertrand.  <\/p>\n<p>The staff thundered their applause.<\/p>\n<p>Irene arrived just in time to receive her share of the applause \u2013 and of course her pile as incoming CE.  When she realised what had been done with the rest of the money, she was furious.  But even she was mollified when she counted her share.  The former CE had been in post a long time, and had gouged such an enormous sum from the company and its staff and suppliers that even a quarter of it was a fortune.  And when they scoured the rest of the C-suite, they found enough tucked away there to make a fifth pile.  This Irene did keep to herself, but when the year end came she was a little more generous with the bonus pool (of which she received a large share) than she otherwise would have been.<\/p>\n<p>Bertrand retired from Brasco, as did Big John (Bill becoming Director of Security), and the two men became good friends.  They were chatting over a beer at the barbecue held in honour of Jason\u2019s ninth birthday.  Big John watched benevolently as the boys rushed to and fro, beating one another up and shouting at the girls.  Then Jason himself ran up, pointed a toy gun at Big John, and demanded five pounds.  The giant threw his hands up in mock alarm, then reached for his wallet.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBrought him up well!\u201d he chuckled to Bertrand.<\/p>\n<p>Joan, coming by just in time to witness the transaction, gave a little clap.  \u201cJust like his father!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But Bertrand wasn\u2019t listening.  He had been thinking about it all and now, suddenly, he had it.  He turned to Big John.  \u201cYou know what the secret of success is?\u201d  <\/p>\n<p>Big John had a pretty good idea, but he wanted his friend to say it.  \u201cGo on.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s leaving something on the table,\u201d Bertrand said.  And at his insistence, Jason reluctantly gave the fiver back to Big John.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The lift was crowded, and Bertrand felt sorry for the tramp squeezing his way from passenger to passenger with his dirty hat. The fellow looked more deserving than some he could name. But it was money; Bertrand looked away, hoping the tramp wouldn\u2019t get to him. Then the lift stopped with a, ding!, everyone else &hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":47752,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,19643],"tags":[19644],"class_list":["post-131371","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-tcl-26-winter-2018","tag-the-colored-lens-26-winter-2018","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/131371","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/47752"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=131371"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/131371\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139447,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/131371\/revisions\/139447"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=131371"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=131371"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=131371"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}