Weathergirl

[Alana]

The anchormen laughed. The crew laughed. I was pissed off, but I knew my job was to hold down my anger and act like I loved their little joke.

"And it looks like some of that big typhoon has found its way into our studio!" I said as I held down my skirt. I moved away from the air hose, and didn't come near it the rest of the report.

When the commercial break came, I strode angrily offstage, my full skirt flying about me as I went, and stomped over to a production assistant.

"I want to talk to Emily!" I said. "Call Emily right now! Tell her I want her down here, right now!"

"I'll call her. I'll tell her just that," she said.

I heard the PA on the phone talking to Emily. She hung up and said, "She said she'll be down after the broadcast. She also reminds you that she's your boss and not the other way around, and maybe you might do well to remember that."

I waited impatiently for her, at the green screen. She took her time getting down there. The studio emptied out as I waited.

When she finally arrived, I said, "You saw it?"

"I heard about it."

"Who the hell do those guys think they are? What do you intend to do about it?"

"Well, the question is, what do YOU intend to do about it? You called this meeting, not me."

"I want you to tell those idiots this isn't junior high school, and I will not put up with any more of their stupid pranks!"

"That sounds good. I think you should tell them that, right away."

"I don't have any authority over them!"

"Listen, April, I don't accept that we women are little children who can't be trusted to stand up for ourselves. If you don't like the way they're treating you, tell them."

"How can you not be mad about this?"

"April, maybe you haven't noticed, but being a woman is just a constant stream of humiliating experiences, one after the other. I know from experience that when you go outside in that dress, it only takes a little gust of wind to blow your skirt up and reveal your slip to everyone. And in high heels it only takes a tiny mistake to fall and find yourself flat on your ass."

"This wasn't any mistake! This was a couple of jerks deliberately humiliating me on broadcast television! And I'm just supposed to put up with it, just because I wear a dress?"

[Alana]

She laughed.

"What's funny, now?"

"You. You've been a woman three days and you're all ready to become Gloria Steinem. Listen to me, April. There's quite a lot of power in being a pretty girl, if you know how to use it. If you want something from those men, flirt with them a little. Use what you've got."

"I ain't got it!"

"They don't know that. This is between you and them, and I'm not going to intervene."

I looked at her sadly, and said, "Emily, tell me the truth. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me wear dresses? Do you hate me, or something? Or is it all men you hate?"

[Alana]

She laughed again.

"Well, let's see. The station manager wants me to only hire weathergirls because they're better for ratings. I hired you because I think you're talented. You've got everything you need to be a good weathergirl at this station. Everything but breasts. So I bought you some breasts. Why are you whining so much about wearing a dress? I'm wearing a dress; you don't hear me complaining about it. This is the thanks I get for letting you wear my dresses and pantyhose and lingerie. And for the record, I don't hate men. I love my husband, and we get along just fine together. There's no hidden agenda, here. Maybe I have a little fun with you sometimes, maybe it's fun to dress you up like a girl. Well, get over it. It's just a little fun, and if you can't take it, then quit, but stop blaming everything on me. No one forced you to take this job. I'm not going to protect you from those scary men like you're a little girl. If you don't like being pranked, stand up for yourself! Be a woman!"

And that was it. She wasn't going to help me.

I couldn't see myself standing up to those idiots, me in a pretty dress, them listening to me with their condescending expressions. They'd be more likely to laugh in my face than pay attention to what I wanted. If anything, the pranks might get even worse. I'd just have to be a lot more vigilant in the future, and watch for hidden air hoses. I disabled the air hose for the eleven o'clock broadcast, so I didn't have to worry about that, at least.

The next day I got up and picked out a lovely orange floral chiffon dress. As I put it on and checked myself out in the mirror, I thought of the day before. That air hose. Maybe I should wear a dress with a tighter skirt, that wouldn't blow up so easily. No, I couldn't let those jerks control me. I went out the door in the chiffon dress.

All day long I was enjoying that lovely dress as it flowed and fluttered on my body. Emily caught me enjoying it.

"Oh, yeah, you just hate wearing dresses, don't you, April?"

I didn't reply. OK, so one particular dress was fun to wear. One dress. That doesn't mean I like wearing dresses. At least, I hope not. I enjoyed seeing that movie "ET", but that doesn't make me a science fiction fan.

The weather report went smoothly that day.

[Alana]

No air hoses this time. And don't think I didn't check.

After the broadcast I was hanging around in front of the green screen, and
Mr. Harper came in.

"Hello, April! I caught the broadcast. I always look forward to seeing
which dress you'll be wearing today. I must say, you look beautiful in
that pretty dress."

I tried to at least look like I enjoyed the compliment. I touched my hair
in a kind of a self-conscious sort of way, and smiled a little.

"Th---thank you," I stammered.

I realized it might've looked like I was flirting with him. I'd have to
watch that.

"And thank you for being such a good sport yesterday. About your skirt
being blown up, and all."

"Nobody told me it was going to happen."

"Well, they wanted to get a good reaction out of you. I hope you realize
it was all in good fun. I wanted to ask you, I just noticed, I've seen a
lot of your dresses being worn by Emily before. I thought maybe it was
just my imagination."

"Just a coincidence."

"Really? It's a pretty big coincidence."

"Well, we just have a similar taste---in dresses?" I said, sounding very
unsure of myself.

"So you haven't been sharing each other's clothes? Not that it's any of my
business. I was just curious."

I tried to come up with a good lie.

"Well, the truth is, Mr. Harper---George---I'm kind of a tomboy. I
actually didn't own any dresses when I got this job. Emily's just helping
me out until I get paid."

"A tomboy? That's hard to believe. You look like quite the girly girl to
me. There's not one bit of you that's even a little bit masculine.
Everywhere I look, you're still a girl. It would be a crime to cover up
those beautiful legs in pants."

"Thank you."

"But I have an unfortunate duty. I've been monitoring the calls coming in
about you, and everyone loves you, but overwhelmingly the men are wanting
to know why you're not wearing something sexy like you did on Monday. So
I'm going to have to ask you to go back to wearing a sexy dress tomorrow."

I groaned.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I already informed Emily of the decision. It's bad
news for me, too. I prefer you like this. But the viewers come first."

"Am I nothing more than a pretty face and a pair of legs?"

"I'm sorry." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Poor kid."

And the next thing I knew he was pulling me in close for another one of
those bonecrushing hugs. I felt like pushing him away, but I meekly
submitted to it.

When he finally consented to release me, I felt like I had to get out of
there immediately before he asked me out to dinner again. I told him I had
to run. I had a date for a late supper with my boyfriend. You can't really
run in high heels, but I came as close to running as I could. I left
quickly, my orange dress fluttering about me as I went.

When I got up the next morning, I looked over the dresses hanging in my
closet.

Mr. Harper wanted me in a sexy dress, but he hadn't said anything about
skirt length. So I passed over those short, tight dresses Emily had given
me. I knew I'd have to wear a dress with a tight skirt, but I wasn't going
to be twitching my butt all over the office in a mini, again. I settled on
a tight red velvet dress of a reasonable length.

When I got to work, both Emily and Mr. Harper looked me over, and
approved.

The weather report went fine that night. Oh, except for one little thing.

My blasted slip was showing throughout the whole report!

I swear it wasn't showing when I checked myself out in the mirror that
morning! I heard the anchormen laughing, but I didn't know why. I had no
choice but to continue with the report.

Finally I realized they were laughing at me. If I were a man I would've
thought my fly was open, or something. Well, I am a man, but they didn't
know that. Just as a reflex I looked down at myself, and that's when I saw
my slip showing. I quickly tugged down my skirt in embarrassment.

When my report was over one of the anchormen said, "Stay right there,
April. Folks, I know we've all been concerned about tornado watches and
tornado warnings here in Southern California, but now we've seen that
there's something even more disturbing to be on the watch for. Ladies and
gentlemen, may I present the first ever---Slip Watch 2017!"

And a graphic popped up!

I couldn't believe they'd been able to come up with that graphic so
quickly! I know I was supposed to act like I enjoyed the little joke and
be all cute and girly about it, but I couldn't do it. I just lost it!

"That's not funny!" I screeched. "Knock it off, you jerkoffs!"

A pall seemed to settle over the studio. Everyone stopped laughing and
looked embarrassed. Both of the anchormen started nervously mumbling
something, but I didn't wait around to hear what it was.

After the broadcast I waited by the green screen. I knew one or the other
of them would be coming down to see me. It turned out to be both of them.

Mr. Harper said, "April, you are in a lot of trouble."

"They shouldn't have done that to me," I said.

"Quite apart from the fact that this isn't cable, you embarrassed and
humiliated our anchor team."

"Like they humiliated me?"

"That's different."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"I don't intend to debate this, April."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Harper."

"Sorry? Oh, no. What you are is fired."

Emily interjected, "George, you can't keep firing weathergirls every time
they make a little mistake."

"Oh, can't I? And here I thought I was the boss."

"She's only been here a week. Give her another chance. She'll apologize to
them on the air."

"That's right," I said. "I will. I can't afford to lose this job."

"My decision is final."

I put my hands on my dress and tugged my skirt down. I fixed him with a
flirty gaze, and gave him a little smile. I'd never tried to flirt with
him before, at least not intentionally, but I was trying now.

"George," I said, "did I mention that I just broke up with my boyfriend?"

He looked interested.

"Did you really, now?"

"Couldn't we talk about this? I'm sure some other solution can be found.
I'd be glad to come out to your place and discuss the matter. I'm sorry I
was naughty and let my slip show. Maybe you might have to spank me."

I displayed my rear end to him.

Emily was making some sort of a gasping, gurgling, choking kind of sound.

"Well," he said, "perhaps that might be arranged. Why don't you come over
tomorrow night for dinner? Mind you, I can't make any promises at this
point."

"Great! It's a date!"

I gave him my hand to shake, in that feminine way I've seen women do. He
left, but Emily stayed behind. She checked to be sure he was out of
earshot before she spoke.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" she exclaimed.

"I'm doing what you told me to do. Flirting to get my way."

"I never told you to go over to his house in a dress, for crying out
loud!"

"I can't lose this job. I have to find some way to negotiate."

"Negotiate! What the hell do you have to negotiate with? The only thing he
wants is just exactly what you ain't got! What happens if he tries to
force himself on you?"

"Oh, please. Just because I wear dresses, you think I can't defend myself
against that little stick figure?"

"And you think beating up your boss will get you your job back?"

"Fine. You tell me. What do I do? I need this job. How else do I get it
back?"

"Listen, if he lifts your skirt and finds the last turkey in the shop,
you're not ratting me out. Do not tell him I knew about this. I didn't
have to give you this job, you know. Maybe I made you wear dresses, but
going over to his house, flirting to get your job back, that's on you. I'm
not responsible for this disaster. This is all your fault, you know. You
should've worn a shorter slip, maybe a chemise."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not an expert on lingerie after five days of wearing
dresses. Why didn't you tell me it was showing?"

"It wasn't showing, before."

"Just another one of the many humiliations we women have to put up with."

"Yeah, sure. Try going through elementary school in a dress, with boys
flipping up your skirt all day, and not even puberty to give you any power
over them."

On the eleven o'clock broadcast, I apologized to the anchor team on air,
just like I said I was going to. Unfortunately, they got to use that as an
excuse to reshow the whole embarrassing scene. Which made me mad, but at
least I controlled my temper, that time.

That evening, when I got home, I noticed a message waiting for me on my
answering machine. I played it.

It was from a local station I had applied to, saying that they had an
unexpected opening, and they'd be glad to hire me as their new weatherman.

Weather-MAN!

I kicked my heels into the air! No more dresses, lingerie or pantyhose.
Yay!

But the next day, I decided, no, one more dress. Just one more.

I looked through my dresses, looking for something cute and girly that Mr.
Harper would go for. I settled on a pretty low-cut sleeveless white floral
dress with a full skirt. When the time came to go there for dinner, I put
it on.

Mr. Harper greeted me at his door with a smile and a leer. He said he like
my dress.

"Thank you, George. I could never wear it for work, of course, because of
all the green in it."

I spread my skirt wide, to show him. I can't believe he actually had green
wallpaper. I never can get away from that green screen.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he said.

"Oh, you are so sweet! I've never known a man who liked me better in a
dress like this than in a short skirt. I guess you must not like looking
at my legs. You know, in a pretty dress like this, I just feel like doing
a twirl."

"Oh, well don't let me stop you."

"You want to see me do a twirl?"

"I'd love to see you do a pretty twirl."

So I obliged him.

"You just can't stop showing your slip, can you?"

"What do you mean? Did you see my slip just then? Well, it's not like you
don't know what it looks like, by now. I suppose I should look around here
to see if there's an air hose to blow up my skirt."

"Nope, no air hose. Not this time. You know, it's not just your dress I
like. I'm sorry I never said this before, but I love your hair. I love
your sexy hair."

"Oh, thank you, George!" I touched my wig tenderly.

"I'm so glad you're willing to call me George, now. You know, dinner is
almost ready. I thought, being as it's a beautiful day here in California-
--"

"For a change."

"We could eat outside! I've got a picnic table set up in the back. What do
you think?"

"Sounds wonderful."

I helped him carry the food outside, and we sat down to eat. I tucked my
full skirt under my rear end and tried to get comfortable on the wooden
bench, which wasn't easy.

A woman is going to find herself eating an awful lot of lipstick. My
lipstick came off onto the lettuce of the salad as I ate. I bet women
probably eat about four pounds of lipstick a year.

When we were done, I had a look around his garden, exploring the place.

"In that dress, you look like you could be a part of this garden," he
said. "You are so beautiful in that dress."

"If I'm so beautiful, why am I fired?"

"Oh, I have a feeling you might not be so fired by the time the night is
over. Depending on how things go."

Creep.

"You are so beautiful, April. I know it's not your real first name, but it
should be. You are just like a breath of springtime."

"Thank you. You make me feel so wonderful with all your compliments, and I
feel so feminine in this dress. I feel like such a nature girl in it."

"You are truly a natural woman."

"Why don't we get the dishes cleaned up? They're not going to clean
themselves."

I helped him bring the dishes into the kitchen. He left them in the sink.

"Let 'em soak," I said. "We're not kids. We know why I'm here. Let's not
waste any more time."

I walked toward him slowly, deliberately, enticingly, my hands brushing
against my skirt as I went.

I stopped very close to him, just a kiss away, and I said, "You are the
most miserable, pathetic excuse for a human being I have ever seen, using
your position to get laid because it's not going to happen any other way.
I wouldn't kiss you or touch you in a million years, even if I wasn't a
man."

"You're---what?" he asked.

"I'm a man," I said in my natural male voice. I lifted up my wig just a
bit to show him, then replaced it.

"What the hell! What the are you doing here? What the hell are you doing
in that dress?"

"Oh, so now you don't like my dress? A minute ago you were telling me how
pretty I was in it."

"You son of a bitch!" he said. He lifted his hand to strike me, and I
easily blocked it and knocked him flat on his ass.

"Want any more? How'd you like your friends to find out you got beat up by
a man in a dress?"

"Get out of here! You don't seriously think this will get you your job
back, do you? I will not submit to blackmail!"

"You can take this job and shove it. I got hired elsewhere. And by the
way, Emily knew all about this. It was her idea."

"Get out."

"Gladly. Sure you don't want to tell me a few more times how pretty I am
in this dress? You just remember, for the rest of your life, that you were
attracted to a man, and that I knocked you down without even getting a run
in my nylons. Don't get up. I'll let myself out."

I went home, took off the dress I was wearing, and hung it up carefully.
Emily would be wanting it back, no doubt.

Sunday evening I was sitting around watching television in jeans and a T-
shirt, when I heard an angry knock at the door. I took a look through the
peephole. It was Emily.

When I opened the door, she said, "You didn't have to get me fired! You
didn't have to tell Mr. Harper that I knew all about it! It was the one
thing I asked you not to do. You just remember that!"

"I'll remember. Stay right there. I'll get your dresses."

"Keep 'em. You'll be needing them."

"What?"

"Check your email."

Now, what did she mean by that? When she left I looked at my emails, and
there was one from the station manager, the guy who had offered me the new
job. The subject line read: Dear April.

I opened it:

Emily, your news director, tracked me down and explained all about who you
are. I didn't know I was hiring THE April Showers! That clip of you on
YouTube getting your skirt blown up is a hoot! I love your character!
She's so feisty and fun, and very, very sexy. I'd like to emphasize your
sex appeal by putting you in short skirts a lot more, like the miniskirt
you wore on Monday. You should wear that your first day. You've got great
legs, why not show 'em off? Emily said you would probably need a salary
advance to buy some more dresses. That's fine, but I need to approve
whatever you buy. Anything that's not short enough is going back. If you
don't mind, I'd like to keep your little secret around the station. The
other men will be much more at ease if they think you're an actual woman.
I must say, this is all pretty unusual, but there's no denying your
popularity. Well, that's it. See you on Monday. Oh, I hope you're not
going to be tiresome about this. I'm hiring April Showers, you understand?
No one else. See you!

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!