The Women's Job

Part 2 - Becoming A Professional Secretary

PART 1 | ALL STORY LIST

Over the next few months, my friends found excuses to dress me up at least 8 times that I can remember. The last two times, they even convinced me to go out with them shopping and bought me a skirt and blouse and the last time took me to the piercing booth and had my ears pierced and studs put in. What WAS I going to do with these two?

I was doing pretty well in home ec too except it included a sewing project and the project was designing and making a dress. The teacher wouldn’t make an exception for me just because I was a boy. So, I did it. After that session with Shirley and Anita out in public, what with getting my ears pierced and all, it didn’t seem so scary, and I knew what I could look like as a girl now. I got some fashion magazines from the library and found a couple dresses that I liked and drew out a plan based on what I liked in both of them. Then I turned that into a full-sized pattern based on my own measurements, cut it and pinned it, and had Mom help me with the final fitting before I cut the cloth and sewed it. And again, Mom didn’t bat an eyelash. "Is this your project for sewing class?" "Yes, Mom, and no, I didn’t pick it. The teacher made me do a dress just like the other, I mean..." "I know what you mean, dear." Boy, was this going to be embarrassing? But you know what? None of the girls laughed at me when I had to model my creation, not one. I didn’t get all dolled up like the girls did me, but that didn’t keep Connie from showing through. They were all very appreciative and supportive, well, except for Mandy. She was one tough girl. She should have been a boy for sure.

She was a pain in the neck anyway so I just wrote that one off. I gave the dress to a friend who was about my size and could alter it to fit her just so the kids at school wouldn’t think I really wore dresses. I really hated giving that dress away. (Sigh) At least they saw me give the dress away. It was a soft nylon jersey with raglan full sleeves, a high neck with a set-in collar, and belted waist over a full skirt. I thought it was quite pretty in the mist green shade I’d chosen. At least that was over and I got an A on that project. Then it was on to cooking and decorating. I was pretty happy about never getting less than a B from Mrs. Porter in those classes.

Before surrendering the dress, I had gone over to Anita’s and modeled it for her and Shirley. They were really bummed that I was going to give it away but they understood. If I’d been seen wearing it, the jig would have been up. Even though I had become quite girlish, if I kept that dress, I might as well just wear it to school and give up my pretense of being a boy and they knew it. Actually, that idea had a certain appeal to it though. No more pretense. And since Mom had started me on St. Johns Wort and some other stuff for my health and nerves, my excess fat had begun to look rather nice when Anita and Shirley dressed me. I was just the least bit ‘jiggly’ is all.

Finally, as a senior, I managed to raise my typing speed a little and was near the top of my class in shorthand at 125 WPM. Surely I’d find a good job. I got a flash of being secretary to some mobster but it was just a flash. A mobster probably wouldn’t want a secretary as effeminate as I had become. Employers didn’t come to visit schools looking for entry-level people in high school, at least not at MY high school. It was only an A-rated school, which meant we had a small student body and therefore not much to offer, so I went looking in the paper and pounding the pavement looking for a job. I knew Mom could keep supporting me as long as I needed it but it was time to do my share. I was ready. Or so I thought.

I was walking downtown one day in late June and spotted a sign in a real estate office. It said, "help wanted-secretary to office manager. Good skills a must. EOE." ‘Well, I thought, if they are really an equal opportunity employer, then maybe this might be good. Looks like a busy office.’ And so I went inside and inquired of the first person I saw who was the receptionist, Peggy. Understand, by this time, the best I could do was an androgynous imitation of Conrad, and Mom, bless her, had never said another word about my appearance no matter what I forgot to wash off, even the lipstick. I was a bit more ‘jiggly’ now too even though I’d lost 5 pounds.

"Hello, my name is Conrad Wells and I’m here to apply for the secretarial position." "She looked up at me with those big blue eyes and said, "really?" "Yes, really. What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever met a male secretary before?" "Not in THIS office honey," she said rather emphatically. She was SO emphatic in fact, that she made me wonder if the sign was for real. Maybe they only SAID they were an equal opportunity. Then again, maybe that look I got from her said, ‘you’re not really going to try and convince me you’re a male, are you?’

"Here," she said. "Fill this out and give it back and I’ll see how soon Mrs. Rule can see you." I did as instructed, filling out the paper on both sides and signing it in my best girlish script which had become my normal handwriting. Peggy told me I was the seventh applicant and that all the others had failed either the typing or shorthand tests. With that information, I became a little more confident. My skills were first-rate. I sat there with my hands in my lap, knees, and ankles locked together as if wearing a skirt, and waited. I heard something over the intercom on Peggy’s desk and she said, "Mrs. Rule will see you now." I had on my best suit and with an air of false confidence, marched rather timidly, I’m afraid, into her office. Well, I didn’t really march, glided would be more accurate. In boy clothes, I suppose my movements were definitely suspicious becoming more so ever since Mom had started me on that new regimen. I wonder.! No, that’s silly.

It was a large office, probably 20 feet square, and nicely appointed if not somewhat starkly furnished. It was mostly mahogany, rich and polished to perfection. Her desk was over near a corner while the secretary’s desk was positioned between hers and the door. Obviously, her secretary was privy to all the goings on and had to work with her closely. I liked the challenge. "Sit down young man. I understand you graduated with honors from high school and that your secretarial skills are excellent."

"How would you know that, Mrs. Rule?" "I already called your school, dear. I don’t waste my time talking to unqualified people. Here." She handed me a transcription pad. I knew what was next. She began to dictate a letter rather rapidly, at least 100 words a minute. I had no difficulty keeping up with her, however. "Now, she said, sit down at this desk and type it up for me. You are on a stopwatch. Go"

I began transcribing and had the letter done correctly in five minutes flat, despite my longish, tapered nails. "Well, she said. You could have taken seven minutes and I would have been happy. And you got it right, too. Congratulations. The salary is $400 a week to start. Would you like the job?" "I certainly would. When can I start?" "Tomorrow, if you like. The position is empty. As you learn your way around here, there will be more responsibilities, but for now, just show up ready for work at 8:30 and dress neatly. I assume you know how to make coffee?" "Yes, Ma’am. I took home ec too with cooking, sewing, and decorating."

"Well, she said, it sounds like you’d make someone a perfect wife, she said with a big grin. You certainly have the manner for it." Was that a dig? "I...uh...suppose I would at that Ma’am. Thank you. How do you like your coffee?" "Black, one sugar, but I have to drink decaffeinated." "Really? Me too, one sugar, except the decaf part!" "You can have the regular for yourself. You and I have our own coffee service in here so you don’t need to stand around outside wasting valuable time talking to the salesmen." "Well then Conrad, we already have something in common. We’ll work on the other things later." What other things, I wondered.

I’d been to my Mom’s office many times over the years and had seen what she did and how she did it and did my best to copy her style. She was very efficient and business-like. I always wore a nice suit or sport coat and Mrs. Rule never offered to let me take them off either. It also became a rule that I never buttoned my jacket, as that would accentuate my small waist and somewhat peculiar shape. I’d long ago taken to wearing ladies' panties and hose sometimes and always wore a pair of feminine casual shoes. Mom knew about my liking for feminine clothing and while never actually getting any, she never said anything further when something showed up in the wash either and I think she knew where the girls were taking me to get my shoes.

I suppose being Mrs. Rule’s secretary and receiving her clients, she wanted me to look my best. She never criticized me for the amount of coffee I drank either and I’m afraid I almost always had a cup on my desk. I don’t know where she gets her coffee but it was certainly delicious. It was robust and yet a little sweet even without the sugar, ‘probably a special gourmet blend’ I thought. Since I always put sugar in it, however, I didn’t really know what it tasted like without it.

I was there about three months and we were getting along just fine the receptionist, Peggy, and I were getting along well too. I seemed to gravitate to her just like Anita. The sales reps were in and out of the office and handled most of their own paperwork as it had a lot of legal stuff in it in which I was not trained. Mrs. Rule was teaching me how to handle things at the top. By the time I’d been there another month, I was feeling a little peculiar, about myself, I mean. I was surrounded by women, being taught by a woman once again and spending idle time with Peggy. It was De Ja’vu.

"Mom?" "Yes, honey?" "Have you noticed anything, well, different about me lately?" "Like what hon?" "I don’t know. I feel different somehow and I look different to myself in the mirror and I seem to act different down at the office, almost like I was, I don’t know, a girl secretary instead of a male secretary. My body is a bit strange too. Am I acting funny?" "You mean as in peculiar?" "Yes." "Well, you did pick up some girlish traits in high school honey."

"Yes, I suppose your job may be influencing your behavior a little but you ARE a secretary after all and we really haven’t discussed your femininity level. Mrs. Rule isn’t on your case about it is she?" "No, if anything she seems to be even nicer to me lately and that’s not all the changes Mom. You almost never see me without my suit or sports coat on anymore do you?" "Why dear, I hadn’t thought about that but no. Is there a reason?"

"I think there may be three of them Mom." At this point, I took off my coat to reveal a dress shirt that had very definite, prominent bumps in it and a rump that filled my slacks to capacity, accentuating my small waist. "My heavens, dear. Being a secretary seems to be hazardous to your health (giggle). I’m sorry honey. It’s just that you look so...well, secretarial all of a sudden. (Giggle)" I’m sorry honey. It’s just that after all your escapades with the girls in school and now just look at you. You look very sweet."

Mrs. Rule hasn’t said anything about this?" "No. She seems quite cordial and oblivious to both my shift in conduct and my, uh, weight gain." "Well, it’s probably nothing dear. A good secretary takes everything in stride. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it will all work out." But MOM, aren’t I kind of acting like a girl lately, sort of...really feminine? And just look at this body!" " I did dear. What do you want me to say?"

"I suppose you are acting more girlish again dear, but a little temperance in your conduct won’t hurt you as much as losing your job will. She’s already given you a $25 raise. Pretty soon you’ll be making $26 thousand a year. That’s not bad for someone just out of high school. Am I right?" "Of course you are Mom, but I’m a little concerned over what’s going on with me personally." "As I said, it will all work out for the best. I don’t mind if you gain a little weight or act a little, well, feminine. You’re only 5'6½" tall and 130 pounds after all." "Perhaps you should start dressing...differently."

"Don’t rub it in Mom. Mrs. Rule is taller than me too. She must be 5'8" in her stocking feet although she always wears attractive heels. She dresses very well."

"I saw some material the other day that would look great on her with her coloring." "Why don’t you tell her about it dear? Maybe she’d let you make her a dress or suit or something with it!" "Oh, Mom. I COULDN’T. What would she think of me?" "Exceptionally talented, for starters, I’d say. A way to a man’s heart may be through his stomach but to a woman’s it is definitely through her wardrobe. Tell her about the material and see what she says. You’re her secretary after all. That is a close relationship. Any bettering of that bond is to your advantage dear."

"Oh, alright. But I can’t believe she’d actually let me do something like that. I mean, I’d have to measure her and everything and I’m a boy." "A technicality dear. Tell her." "OK." It took me three more weeks to summon up the courage to tell Mrs. Rule about the material I’d found and that I’d like to make her a dress or suit out of it. She was very gracious but in the end, declined my offer, telling me she got all of her better clothing from Dillard’s right off the rack. "However, Conrad, why don’t you make yourSELF a suit of out it?" "Oh, it’s lovely cranberry wool worsted Mrs. Rule. It’s only good for women’s wear." "I understand you had to design and make yourself a dress in school." (Blush) "Yes Ma’am. I had to. It was a class project." "Did you enjoy doing it?" "Yes, Ma’am. I guess it would probably fit me now very well too. I seem to be...better endowed than I was then." "Oh, yes. Well, I have noticed that Conrad, but I didn’t want to make you nervous. Your work seems to be improving and you seem more at ease although you do appear to be taking on a little different flavor lately, both physically and mentally. Does that bother you dear?"

"Mom and I have talked about it Mrs. Rule and she thinks I should just sort of ‘go with the flow’ as long as you are happy with me, regardless of whatever else is going on." "Good. Then it’s resolved. Buy the cloth and make yourself a nice business suit then." "But, Mrs. Rule. When would I ever wear it, I mean with a skirt and all?" "Just look at it as a class project; something to keep you in practice. You don’t want to lose your skills do you?" "I suppose not but a skirt suit for ME? When would I wear it?"

"Just humor me, Conrad. I’m sorry dear, but I think you will have to admit that you seem very girlish lately in appearance, body image, and deportment. Now, before you start but, butting me, just listen. I really didn’t want to hire a male for this job but you were qualified and did well in the tests and I needed a good secretary. You’ve been here six months now and that is just what you’ve become, a good secretary. I depend on you and you make great coffee dear. I’m glad you like the blend I buy for you. Now, here is what I propose."

"Go home and tell your mother what I want you to do and get her to measure YOU for the suit, alright?" "Oh, alright. I don’t suppose it will be that bad. You won’t laugh at me?" "No dear. I won’t laugh." I went home and told Mom all about it. She listened rather intently, I thought, as if she were crunching numbers all the while I was telling her. Then she said, "come on honey. Let’s get you a nice pattern and buy that cloth." And so, after dinner that night, Mom had me disrobe and put on her light silk dressing gown and she measured me. I was no longer the stick that graduated from high school. My measurements said I took a 34B bra, a 26-inch waist and I had 35-inch hips. GAWD! I was a bit overwhelmed. My body apparently got tired of me acting like a girl and decided to make me actually BE one and I don’t even want to get into what had happened to my original equipment.

Mom, on the other hand, seemed I don’t know, almost pleased with what she found. I had found myself acting openly feminine around both she and Mrs. Rule this past month, even Peggy. It was like I couldn’t help myself and didn’t really care. With each vocal intonation or gesture that crossed the line of masculinity, I somehow felt closer to both of them and certainly to my buddy Peggy. We had taken to going to lunch together. My hands and gestures seemed to have a mind of their own. I even window-shopped with her and she’d ask my opinion on absolutely everything. She had begun treating me just like a girlfriend, poor thing, just like Shirley and Anita. I was the closest thing to another girl in the office, I guess, being the boss’s secretary. I certainly was coming ever closer to feeling like a girl too.

Mom and I took off for the cloth shop and finally decided on a Butterick pattern. While they aren’t the easiest to work with, they do have some smart designs. It would take 2 ½ yards of cloth plus interfacing and silk lining. While I was pouring over the books, Mom had gone to another department for something and threw it in the basket. I noted the size. 34B. It was a bra and it was for ME! I just knew it! I said nothing in the store. I’d have at least $50 just in the materials for this suit and that bra was for ME.

"This seems like a waste of money on an exercise, Mom." "I don’t think so hon. Six months ago I might have agreed but not anymore." Now, why did she say that I wonder? The work on the suit progressed slowly. I was in no hurry and wanted to get it right the first time. I had gotten a size 10 pattern but was a little afraid I was going to have to let it out some before I was finished.

"Mom. Why did you get me a bra?" "Aren’t you tired of bouncing like that yet?" "Jeeze Mom! Alright. Not only am I tired of bouncing, but it’s also very irritating too. My nipples are raw." "Oh, I’m so sorry dear. I couldn’t see that through my robe. It’s difficult to ignore nipples that are standing at attention, but I had no way of knowing you were sore. Here", handing me one of her camisoles, "try this and see if it doesn’t help." "It feels really slinky Mom. I’m sure it will help." "And rub some body lotion on their morning and night." "OK."

It helped alright. It helped my burgeoning bosom to another double-peaked erection. It was downright erotic, the feeling of that satin against my tender skin. And rubbing my nipples, well, that elicited all sorts of new sensations, nice ones! I decided to try the bra on too. It was a perfect fit and I couldn’t help but admire my reflection. It really enhanced my figure. This wasn’t just sedentary fat. My body was changing right before my eyes. They look good I thought; not too big for my size. What are you THINKING? Get a GRIP! The problem was, I was losing the grip, Conrad’s grip at least. All I could do was say, "thank you, Mom. It fits great." She smiled.

I went in to show Mom how I looked in my bra and her cami.

"Honey that looks nice on you, except for the shorts, of course. I know Mom. I’m having a hard time finding enough to pull through the placket anyway." "When did you start wearing shorts instead of your panties? Maybe panties would be more to the point. You do have some don’t you?" "Yes, I admitted." "Conrad, I think it’s time we had a little talk." ‘Here it comes,’ I thought. "I don’t know what’s become of my son, but you don’t resemble him much anymore. Maybe becoming a secretary wasn’t such a good idea after all."

"Oh, I love my job, Mom. Mrs. Rule depends on me. I like it there." "Well then darling, I’m afraid we’ll have to get you some clothing that fits both your body and your mind. You’ve adapted to being a secretary very well sweetie, but I really think you’ve taken on more of the flavor of a daughter lately. There doesn’t seem to be many boys left in you. I think I’d better have a little talk with your boss." "I do feel kind of all swishy inside Mom. Maybe you should talk with her. I don’t know how to act around people anymore. I’m sure I’m giving out mixed signals and for sure I’m getting them back."

So Mom had a chat with Mrs. Rule. She came in person during my lunch hour and was still there when I got back. A fly on the wall told me a little of their conversation. Actually, I was a little sneaky. I left my dictating machine on record while I was out. How careless of me. Oops!

"Mrs. Wells, do come in. Conrad has told me a great deal about you. I understand you are a secretary as well." "Yes, for many years to Mr. Dale at Consolidated Aluminum." "Very prestigious. I see where Conrad gets his talent then. Please have a seat." "Mrs. Rule, I think you are well aware of the changes that have befallen Conrad since he began working here." "Yes, it would be hard to miss them, wouldn’t it? Frankly, Mrs. Wells has become a bit disconcerting in both manner and dress. He would look better IN a dress, I think, don’t you?"

"That’s why I’m here. I’m having him make that suit you discussed for himself and I just bought him his first bra, a 34B." "My, my. Our little cherub is growing, isn’t she?" "Yes, Mrs. Rule, ‘she’ is. Mind you, I have no objection to having a daughter. Actually, I had wanted one to spoil but then Conrad came along instead and I have had him on a very mild regimen of herbs and hormones for a couple years. Have you been feeding him something as well to bring this about?" "He drinks a lot of coffee, Mrs. Wells." "Yes, at home too, more than he should but...!"

"He’s been feeding it to himself and determining the dosage as well." "How?" "His sugar isn’t sugar. Quite simple really. Not being run through the coffee maker, it remains unharmed and he ingests it all day long. Since you’ve already admitted you wanted a daughter, I assume you are not terribly upset with me?" "Not at all, Mrs. Rule. I’m the one who started him. Conrad’s father, God rest his soul, was a lovely man, a size 14, but a lovely man nonetheless."

"So, Conrad comes by his sweet disposition and talents quite naturally. I am a little surprised to hear of your husband." "He was sweet and gentile and I’m afraid I did much the same thing to him. We buried him in a lovely gown. I’m going to do a little shopping after work today. There is no need for you to have my incongruous son in your office any longer than necessary. I believe he is ready to graduate again. We must start him off slowly though."

"I agree. No abrupt shocks to the system. We’ll transition him right here as well as home and I’ll be as helpful as I can in making him, pardon me, her feel welcome and comfortable," said Mrs. Rule.

So, the sugar is it? I do feel better about myself lately though and now I know why I’ve had these wild urges when I pass lingerie shops and shoe stores and dress shops for so long. Hell, I may as well get my ears double-pierced and pluck my eyebrows. That WOULD be fun. Start bringing on more changes before Mom can get to me. Maybe a little eye makeup. I’ll just play along and let her think she is doing a number on me. That coffee must be sweet all by itself.

A few days after ‘the visit,’ I went to the mall and had my ears pierced again and brilliant emerald studs put in. They sparkled like the sun and even though my hair was in a ponytail and I could have hidden them by letting it loose, I wanted Mom and Mrs. Rule to notice this escalation of my femininity. I got small hoops for the bottom holes.

"Honey, I have a present for you." "What’s in the box, Mom?" "Open it and see." "Oh, wonderful, I screamed. There must be two dozen there."

"Good guess hon. They’re size six. That should leave you just a little room to grow." "Please, Mom. I don’t want to be a heifer." "I got you a few of your own cami’s and a couple more bras and some really pretty nighties. I hope you don’t mind."

"Why would I mind Mom. I’m turning into your little fairy princess, aren’t I ?" "That will be enough of that young lady. I’ve never demeaned you and neither has Mrs. Rule." "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just needed to throw a punch. I’m sorry it was you who caught it, Mom. Please forgive me." "That’s alright honey. We all know what’s happening here and you ARE becoming my daughter, so it’s time you began dressing the part. I really think you should wear a bra all the time now hon. You’re too young to be droopy."

"Thanks. I will. Oh, if the guys at the pool hall could see me now." "They’d be trying for a date honey. Would you like to experiment with some makeup?" "Guess I’d better huh? It’s been a long time since I’ve done it myself." I’d expected that remark to take Mom back a little. She didn’t even acknowledge that I said it. "Well, you won’t learn it overnight. Let’s put you in a blouse and jeans, let your hair down, and take you to a makeup counter in a department store so we can get proper colors for you." "Oh boy. This is like, really a commitment, isn’t it?"

"I suppose so. It doesn’t scare you does it?" "If Daddy liked it, why shouldn’t I? Oops!!" "How did you know about your father? You should have been too young to remember that." "Must have overheard it Mom. I don’t know." Almost blew that one. Gotta be more careful.

"Mom?" "Yes?" "My...you know when I was younger and I’d leave spots on the sheets, sticky spots?" "Yes. That’s perfectly normal." "Well, I still have those feelings during a dream but it’s like, everything except the neat sensation has shut down and I haven’t even been interested in myself lately except for my breasts and they’re really neat." "That’s normal too, dear. Your boy hormones aren’t working anymore." "Does that mean I’m really going to turn into a girl?" "You can’t just ‘turn into’ a girl. You have become very feminine and you look like a girl, but if you want to really become one, that is a surgical procedure and you have to decide on that yourself. You’ve reached legal age." "I think we’d better stick with the clothes for a while." "Fine, dear. We don’t want to rush you."

So I began going to work dressed in a blouse under my jacket with my bra on and ladies' slacks as men’s didn’t fit anymore, and girl’s flats and low heels. My hair got styled, washed, cut, set, permed, and lightened, and my nails were shaped to accentuate the femininity of my smallish hands. I wore girl’s rings and bracelets and hoops and dangle earrings. Then one day, Mom came home with several packages containing garter belts, hose, and a merry widow. Wow, was that ever neat. It gave me a really cute shape. Mrs. Rule never said a word about all this, of course. I knew she was in on it.

Just listen to yourself, wimp!’ ‘Aw, shut up dude. I’m beginning to really enjoy this side of me so bug off. I began to wear the hose and the merry widow, then Mom came by after work and took me to a shoe store. My new fantasy got a little more serious with the addition of slippers and flats and sandals and heels of every height, especially the sexy high ones. I must have bought a dozen pairs at least. When I got home, I put on a pair of 3" heels with my slacks. They looked nice. I really liked them and they looked sexy peeking out from under my trousers legs.

"Mom, can I wear these with slacks to the office?" "Sure honey. Dress heels are fine with dress slacks. That’s going to make a defining statement, you know. No matter how androgynous a boy is these days, only girls wear spikes to the office and you’ve got the walk down perfect." "Yeah, I hadn’t thought about that. OK. Let me go put on my makeup and some perfume and you check me out, OK?" "Fine. Just saunter in when you’re a ready dear."

It was time to pluck. I shaved my sparse beard and gave my eyebrows that distinctive feminine arch. Then I applied liner, shadow and mascara, some blusher, and lipstick. Then I painted my nails and gave them a coat of Kwik Dry and was off to the living room. "Well, what do you think?" I left myself wide open with that one but" oh, honey. I think you look darling. How could you have ever been a boy? No one will ever make that mistake again unless well you know."

"You really like it?" "Yes CONNIE, I like it. I think we need to talk to our attorney and get your birth certificate changed to Constance, don’t you?"

"Wait until the suit is finished, Mom. Maybe then. We haven’t seen me in a dress yet." I began putting extra time in on the suit. And when Connie showed up at work in her slacks and heels, both Peggy and Mrs. Rule gave me a big hug. I’d swear Mrs. Rule had a tear in her eye. Naw! Probably my imagination. She’s too tough for that. From that time on, I was Connie however, and it flowed off everyone’s lips so much more easily than ‘Conrad’ ever did. A week later, I had the suit finished. The lining was lovingly sewn in by hand. Everything was basted and double-stitched and the collar was perfect. It had a form-fitting straight skirt that ended just at my knees.

It was a good thing I had cut generously. Mom had to let out the skirt a little. I was really turning into a broad.’ I wore my black patent belt and black patent spikes and a demure white poet’s blouse with it and it looked smashing if I do say so myself. Mom just couldn’t resist taking several pictures of me in my new suit. My feminine confidence level was high as I walked in that day. There was a bounce in my step. I was young and pretty and very happy. It was April 22, Secretary’s day and Mrs. Rule was taking me to lunch at a fancy restaurant. As I walked into the inner office, I heard a little gasp come from Mrs. Rule. "Oh, Connie, she said, you’re everything I knew you could be." And I have been ever since.

The end.