Farm Girl

[Alana]

They gasped! Like, she knows! She knows! Some of them even gave out a little nervous laugh.

The fourth and last time I went for coffee that day, I really thought they'd had enough of my legs, but I guess not. So I thought, what if I just went for the biggest reaction I could get?

I bent my knees and put my hands behind my head.

[Alana]

Cheers and applause! And two guys even whistled!

I know I should've been insulted, and maybe I would've been if I were a real girl, but I couldn't help it. I loved it! These men not only thought I was a girl, they thought I was an attractive girl! And no one else, anywhere, had ever thought I was attractive. Certainly no girl ever thought so. And all the boys in school know I'm a boy. If one of them thinks I'm attractive, he's definitely been keeping it to himself. Getting this kind of reaction was intoxicating! I wondered if it would be like this all week.

I was glad that was the last time I'd be going for coffee that day, because there was no way I could top that.

The day continued pleasantly enough, until Mr. Bellam uttered the three frightening, dramatic words every rookie secretary dreads to hear: Take a letter.

Shorthand! That mysterious, noble art which separates the boys from the secretaries. Typing and filling are all well and good, but you're not a real secretary until you can take shorthand.

At this point I cannot do better than to quote Mr. Charles dic-kens:

I bought an approved scheme of the noble art and mystery of stenography (which cost me ten and sixpence); and plunged into a sea of perplexity that brought me, in a few weeks, to the confines of distraction. The changes that were rung upon dots, which in such a position meant such a thing, and in such another position something else, entirely different; the wonderful vagaries that were played by circles; the unaccountable consequences that resulted from marks like flies' legs; the tremendous effects of a curve in a wrong place; not only troubled my waking hours, but reappeared before me in my sleep. When I had groped my way, blindly, through these difficulties, and had mastered the alphabet, which was an Egyptian Temple in itself, there then appeared a procession of new horrors, called arbitrary characters; the most despotic characters I have ever known; who insisted, for instance, that a thing like the beginning of a cobweb, meant expectation, and that a pen-and-ink sky-rocket, stood for disadvantageous. When I had fixed these wretches in my mind, I found that they had driven everything else out of it; then, beginning again, I forgot them; while I was picking them up, I dropped the other fragments of the system; in short, it was almost heart-breaking.

That should give you a small idea of how difficult shorthand is.

I brought in my steno pad and pen, sat down ( not bothering to tuck my skirt beneath my buttocks, because it wasn't necessary in that tight dress ), put on my glasses, crossed my legs, and prepared to take a letter.

And Mr. Bellam took no mercy on me, as he rattled off his words as fast as he could go, composing a letter to the Oregon Iron Ore Corporation regarding a disputed claim they were negotiating. I concentrated as hard as I could. I was keeping up!

[Alana]

"...and furthermore, you should be advised that, before the beginning of next year, that Marilyn has the most beautiful legs I've ever seen in my life..."

I looked up and smiled at him. He was smiling back at me.

"Mr. Bellam---George---I really don't think the Oregon Iron Ore Corporation needs to hear about my beautiful legs, do you?"

[Alana]

"I'm sorry," he said. "My mind wandered."

"Let's hope it doesn't wander up my skirt, George."

The next morning, Gloria chose for me a cute pale blue dress with a pleated skirt. I was relieved to be wearing a dress that wasn't so tight, though I'm sure if I'd asked her for something not so tight she would've reached into her closet and picked out something even tighter.

Mr. Bellam greeted me by saying, "Marilyn, you look adorable in that cute little dress!"

"Thank you, sir. George. For a man, you seem awfully obsessed with which dress I wear. Or is it me you're obsessed with?"

"Now, now. Let's not make inappropriate remarks."

"Right. Because saying I have beautiful legs, that's not inappropriate at all."

"Well. It's not inaccurate."

He smiled, and I smiled back.

I must admit, I loved that dress! I loved feeling the skirt brush against my hands as I walked down the hall to get him coffee.

[Alana]

And if you think wearing a dress with a slightly longer, fuller skirt was going to stop the men from staring at my legs, then you don't know men.

It was great not to be wearing such a tight dress, and to be able to take a full stride instead of the smaller steps I'd taken the day before. But I walked a little too fast, and I was careless. I tripped and fell flat on the floor. You can trip over just about anything in high heels if you're not careful.

I looked at what had tripped me up. Just an extension card affixed to the carpet with duct tape. I felt so embarrassed. It wasn't as though I had no experience walking in heels.

[Alana]

I expected them all to laugh at me. That's what they would've done at my high school. I looked at them all and tried to smile, tried to make it look like I was in on the joke.

[Alana]

Of all the things it's awkward to do in a dress and high heels, getting up off the floor is just about at the top of the list. I propped myself up on my hands and pulled my legs toward me, ready to get up.