Career Day at Enola Gay High.


"You are absolutely correct. We let the restaurant management students run the place for practice. They choose everything, from the menu to the decor. Nice, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes. Very."

The recruiting tables were tucked into a corner of the large room. There were five tables, of which four were occupied. Each table was surrounded by a skirt of white, floor-length butcher paper, with the firm's name written on the front. The Principal greeted the other recruiters sitting at their tables warmly, and indicated the only unoccupied table to Carolyn.

Carolyn was surprised to see it was already covered with literature describing her company and application forms, and even had the company's name printed boldly across the front of the table's paper skirt.

"I see that Mrs. Stevens has already been here," explained the Principal.

Miss Perfect had Carolyn slide behind the table first, then followed. Carolyn found the metal folding chair to be uncomfortable, but not overly so. She felt more uncomfortable when, even with an entire table to themselves, Miss Perfect's chair somehow slid across the floor and was actually touching hers when she sat down next to her. "You should have seen what they did to the place last year, nothing but sawdust and peanut shells! It was supposed to be some kind of country steak house. What a mess!" said Miss Perfect, laughing at the memory.

"So, how about a nice glass of wine before we order?" Miss Perfect asked.

Carolyn normally didn't drink during the day, but this was her host after all, so how could she say no?

"That would be very nice, thank you," she automatically replied, then thought for a moment. "Wait a minute! Wine?"

"It's really grape juice, but we like to pretend," the Principal explained. To the hovering waitress she said, "Wendy, we'll have two glasses of your finest house burgundy."

"Yes, ma'am," Wendy answered, and hurried off.

While they waited, Miss Perfect started talking to the recruiters in the table adjacent to theirs about things that the school had in the works for the coming year. Even better for Carolyn, students began coming up to the table, asking her about the company and her job there.

Normally such talk would have been fascinating for her, but something kept distracting her. Miss Perfect was one those people whose hands seemed to take flight whenever they talked. They were forever moving: above, on, and under the table. Yet, somehow one always seemed to end up on Carolyn's thigh under her short skirt, or brushing against the side of her left breast through her jacket.

As she talked, Carolyn didn't realize that when the woman would innocently bump into her breast, she would slide her finger into her jacket and slip one of the buttons loose. Finally, after the fourth time Carolyn's trim powder blue jacket was completely undone and pulled open. Now the woman's hand could brush directly against Carolyn's swelling breast, protected only by her thin transparent top. Carolyn knew something was wrong, but there was far too much going on to understand what it could be. Students were now coming up to the table, asking her questions and sometimes filling out application forms. The people in Human Resources had told her to be very careful with these. They had to be done correctly or the application would automatically be rejected. So, Carolyn found herself quite busy and didn't have time to worry about anything else.

Once she tried to casually look down, but she couldn't really see anything wrong.

It was just her imagination she told herself, as she tried to concentrate on what the students were saying. But the more the Principle talked, the more the woman's hands seemed to wander.

As the Principal continued to talk, her hand now seemed to remain on Carolyn's left thigh, moving casually up and down, squeezing the firm flesh whenever the Principal was making a point.

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