New (The Fetishists – Secretary)

OBJECTIVE

Though new to the working world, Melanie Blackwell is confident she exemplifies the qualities necessary to thrive as a personal secretary. Typing and organizing come as naturally to her as eating and sleeping come to others, and she has always envisioned herself working in an office, answering phones in a courteous and efficient manner. Maintaining a pleasant and professional demeanor, she is eager to begin her career and service at your earliest convenience.

QUALIFICATIONS

Experience with Microsoft Office Suite

Unquestioning loyalty to authority

Typing speed: 120 wpm

Looks really good in heels

Desperate

EXPERIENCE

N/A, but inexperience can be its own asset. A talented beginner works harder than a veteran, and she can be trained to perform as best pleases her employer. Please accept my vocational virginity for the opportunity it is, for both of us.

The man who came into the lobby had soft, wet hands.

“I’ve really been looking forward to meeting you,” he said, shaking her hand, touching her shoulder.

She followed him into his office and sat where he invited her to sit.

“I just want to thank you again for coming. Would you like some coffee?”

Melanie shook her head. The man poured a cup for himself, and thanked her again.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a long gulp from his tropical coffee cup.

She waited for the interview questions she’d prepared to answer. What makes you a good fit for this company? Where do you see yourself in ten years?

“How long have you worn glasses?”

“They’re new.”

He nodded, as though this was interesting information, and made a note in his journal. “You’re over eighteen, right?”

Melanie nodded, and moments later had a job.

What a gentleman, she thought.

#50-shades, #creepy, #cv, #male-gaze, #microfiction, #misogyny, #naivety, #paraphilia, #resume

Robustness (part 5)

Leslie was not attractive. He didn’t want to objectify her in any specific way, but she was ugly, no question. Whatever part of him made inventory of physical characteristics and analyzed the data worked automatically. The conclusion was in his favor. The great worry he’d had was that she would trigger the hormonal crazy part of him that had been his personality at twenty, and because she wasn’t attractive, she was safe.

He had not yet started a conversation, or alerted her to his presence. The sculpture in the center of the square was a good enough hiding place for him to catch his breath. It was cube-shaped, on its corner. It represented modernism. His own place in the metaphor seemed less clear, though he supposed if he was hiding behind modernism, it would be some statement on self-awareness in media, or perhaps how modern art obfuscates more than it elucidates.

Leslie hadn’t seen him yet. She was smoking a cigarette, as was her custom, and he watched her take deep tar-filled breaths through her drooping beak. Though she wasn’t wearing a watch, she looked at her wrist several times while he watched. The twilight suited her, especially with the cigarette. She was like a Hopper, or a Norman Rockwell on an off-day.

She was waiting for him. He couldn’t believe she wanted to see him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not attracted to you anymore.”

She put out her cigarette. “Hi. I was never attracted to you in the first place.”

She hugged him like a belt. He didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say. He was glad to see her.

#awkward, #fiction-in-parts, #idiot, #male-gaze, #misogyny, #reunion, #self-awareness, #self-deception, #self-loathing, #selfishness, #stalker