Farm Girl

[Alana]

But they weren't laughing, and in fact about half a dozen men were running towards me with hands extended, ready to help me up. So I leaned back and relaxed. Why should I deny them the privilege of helping out a pretty girl in a cute dress?

I took the hand of the man nearest me. He looked to be the strongest. He lifted me gracefully to my feet.

"Are you all right?" he asked, as though I were a particularly fragile piece of fine china.

"I think so," I said. "Is my dress OK?" I straightened my skirt.

Someone else took me by the elbow to the break room.

"Do my nylons look all right? My sister will kill me if I ruin her pantyhose."

"Have a seat," someone said.

I looked at the high stool they wanted me to sit on. Oh, so they were going to give my nylons a full examination, were they? Well, wasn't that was kind of them?

I hopped up onto the stool.

"Well? Do I look OK?"

"You look beautiful."

"Now, now. Don't talk that way. You know I'm only seventeen."

"You're the one who wanted us to look at your nylons."

I touched my hair and crossed my legs. I smiled at them.

[Alana]

I laughed. "You guys are shameless!" I said. "Haven't you ever seen a girl's legs before? Didn't Suzanne have legs?"

Suzanne, if you'll remember, was the secretary I was temporarily replacing.

"Not as beautiful as yours."

It was ridiculous, these middle-aged men, standing around staring at a boy's legs. A boy in pantyhose and high heels. And a pretty dress.

What was really pathetic was that I was loving all the attention.

"Well, Mr. Bellam will be screaming for his coffee. I'd better get back. Help me down?"

The strong fellow took me by the waist and lifted me off the chair, and gently let me down until my high heels touched the floor. He held on to my waist just a little longer than necessary. I smiled at him, and looked into his eyes.

"Thank you," I said.

Finally he let me go. I back away from him, then I filled a Styrofoam coffee cup for Mr. Bellam.

"Bye, guys," I said, and smiled.

"Bye," they all said.

I turned and left. I knew they were watching me leave.

The next day Gloria chose for me a colorful silky dress with a long skirt. I put it on. It felt very sexy to wear.

And I wondered if my long skirt would stop the men from staring at me as I went for coffee, since they couldn't see much of my legs. And I wondered if I would hate that. I predicted yes, for both questions.

And I was right. When I went for coffee, I attracted no attention at all. I looked at them, and not a one of them were looking back at me. And I noticed later on, some of them were rather sullen towards me, as though I'd offended them somehow.

Near the end of the day, Mr. Bellam wanted to talk to me. With a great show of reluctance, he said, "Marilyn, I like to talk to you about your dress."

[Alana]

"My dress? What's wrong with my dress?" I held my voluminous skirt in my hands and looked at it.

[Alana]

"Your skirt is much too long for office work."

I was raised to treat adults with respect, but this just pissed me off.

"What the hell does the length of my skirt have to do with office work?"

"It might get caught in the doorway or the filing cabinet. Stuff like that."

"Oh, why don't you just tell me the truth about why you want me in a short skirt!"

He sighed.

"Marilyn, these men work very hard at a very boring job. Getting to look at your legs every day is just a little ray of sunshine in their lives. You're a very attractive girl, Marilyn, I'm sure you know that. In a dress like that, you might as well be wearing pants."

"So basically I'm just a pair of legs to them! That's all I am."

"Marilyn, I don't think that about you. I think you're very interesting and very intelligent, and I don't mean just for a teenager. I find you very interesting to talk to."

"You do?"

"Certainly. Look, you wear whatever dress you want. Really. Even wear pants if you want. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you."

"Well, actually, my sister picks out which dress I wear every day. I have to wear a lot of hand-me-downs. She's a few years older."

"Yes, I thought you dressed very grown-up for a teenager."

"Thank you! Maybe you should take over the job of deciding what I wear every day. You seem to be obsessed with what I wear."

"Like I said, wear what you want."

I asked for Suzanne's number, so I could talk to her about some things. That evening, as soon as I could get some privacy, I called her up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Suzanne? Could I talk to you? I don't want to disturb you, if you're in the middle of something."

"Who is this?"

"My name is Marilyn. I'm taking over for you, for the week."

"You sound like just a kid."

"I'm seventeen, but I'm fully trained."

"What can I do for you? Finding everything OK?"

"I just wanted to ask you about the guys in the office."

"Uh-oh. What've they done?"

"I wanted to find out if they stare at you the way they stare at me."

She laughed.

"Don't tell me. Your legs. Does it make you feel uncomfortable?"

"Well, I'm just not used to it, is all. Do they stare at your legs?"

"Not as much as they used to. But my legs aren't what they used to be. If they still stare at me they must be going crazy over you, if you're as young as you sound."

"I was told today, in no uncertain terms, that my skirt was too long."

"Yeah, I've gotten that speech. So tell me, do you like it? The staring?"

"Do you?"

"I'll admit it if you do."

"OK. Fine. I like it. I know I should feel insulted, but I like it."

"Oh, don't let anyone else tell you what to feel. It's not like they're a bunch of louts playing grab-ass all day. They're sweet guys."

"They are, aren't they?"

"So what if they stare? They can't help themselves, poor dears. You're only there for a week. Give 'em what they want. Is that what you wanted to ask me?"

"More or less."

"Just wanted permission to feel the way most women feel but know we're not supposed to, eh?"

"I guess."

"Well, if there's nothing else---"

"Well, just one thing. How'd you feel when Mr. Bellam said your skirt was too long? What'd you do?"

"Oh, I got mad and told him he was treating me like a piece of meat, and he said he didn't see me that way and thought I was very intelligent, and then he got terribly contrite and told me I could wear whatever I wanted. And I went home and moved all my longer dresses to the back of the closet and wore short skirts to work after that. So the men got what they wanted. And I'm guessing that's exactly what you're going to do. Am I right?"

"Yes. Probably. We're just pushovers, aren't we? The men smile at us and leer at our legs and we do whatever they want."

"Yeah, but don't let them know that. Good-bye, Marilyn. Good luck."

I said good-bye and hung up.

The next day I waited to see which dress Gloria was going to choose for me. I wasn't going to interfere. She chose an astonishingly beautiful silk dress in vibrant colors, which I was meant to wear with a belt. It wasn't extremely short, but short enough. I knew the guys would be back to staring at my legs.

Mr. Bellam called me in for some dictation. I waited for him to make some more crass comments about my legs, but he didn't mention them. So when I got up and pushed the chair back into the corner, I said, "Well, George, I hope my pretty dress meets all the proper criteria for shortness."

[Alana]

He smiled, because he could see I was just kidding around.

"Of course it does," he said.

"Are you sure? We can get out a ruler and measure my skirt, if you'd like."

[Alana]

"That won't be necessary."

I stepped forward a little bit and faced him.

"I wouldn't want you to feel you weren't getting your money's worth out of my legs. Are you sure? I can always lift my skirt for you, if you'd like."

[Alana]

"Yes, I'd think you'd better do that, Marilyn."

"Do what?"

"Lift your skirt. So I can see your legs better."

"I don't think my mother would be too pleased at that. That wouldn't be very ladylike."

Yeah, what was under my skirt wasn't very ladylike, I'll say that.

I turned to go.

"I'm leaving, now," I said. "Want to watch?"