BACK TO REALITY… Same ole, same ole (Part 165t)
Most panty peeks
and VPL’s are complete surprises. This one surely was! As I walked up to
the drive-up area I saw Woody’s whole backside just under the hem of her jacket.
The best way to describe the color of the jacket is to suggest it was
about the shade of iced tea. So, with her pants the color of oatmeal
there was a contrast. I’d been a student of VPL’s as long as I could
remember so I was able to detect crotch lines without really having to
search for them. There were certain ones that would readily identify the
maker of the panty. For example, there was no way not to recognize a
pair of Sans Soucie or VanRaalte panties. And there were also some
others that I could make an educated guess about. But in Woody’s case I
wasn’t really sure. The sight of it left me momentarily speechless. I’d
walked past Peggy and stopped when I saw the VPL. Peggy brought me
out of my trance when she asked if everything was OK. I told her why I’d
come to the area and she agreed that it was a good idea to prepare
Woody for what might soon be happening. The comment brought me back to
the real world.
It was little later in the morning that I got a
good look Woody and her new outfit. The dress code called for the back
of the jacket to cover the “dupa” or butt cheeks. This one barely did
but since it had been Trish who’d been with her when she was picking her
clothes out I didn’t dare say anything. Trish had been called the
“dupa” police by Bret right after the dress code was changed to allow
females to wear pants at work as she was critical of most of the jackets
that were initially worn. In any case I didn’t have a problem with the
jacket’s length although I wasn’t crazy about the color. However, it
worked with pants she was wearing. I remember wishing I was in a better
position to observe her during the workday.
There are no notes
indicating that anything untoward happened during the first couple of days of
the ‘busy period’. Having a staff of experienced tellers was probably
as good a reason as any. Bret reported that Jerry, at the branch, had
seen a little more lobby traffic but I dismissed it as a product of it
being the industry wide ‘busy period’. I told Bret it was probably him
being worried about his job and was trying to justify his salary. My
reason for thinking about that subject was I expecting to be told what
my salary increase would be sometime during the week. It still upset me
that he was making the same salary as I was making and only had about
10% of the responsibility I carried. But, at least with Bret as the
go-between I didn’t have to worry about getting into a ‘pissing contest’
with him. Bret had been good about keeping me up to date on just about
everything and anything going on at the branch. Speaking of the branch,
lurking in the back of my mind was just what the Trustees were doing
with the report Morris, the consultant they’d hired to advise them on
branch matters, had presented to them back in August. There was always
the temptation to give him a call but… I didn’t know just how ‘close’ he
and the Trustees had become. The last thing I wanted was to develop
more negativity towards myself so chose to keep my mouth shut.
At
home, for one night, I focused on making the signs for the church
thrift shop. It was to open on Saturday and I decided to run an ad in
the Pennysaver paper because of the confusion that aborting the first
attempt at an opening had caused. I was still not ‘sold’ on the idea of
it but, as a vestryman, was committed on “giving it a go”. Based upon
the good will the donation of the rejected clothes to the CAST
organization had generated there were some positives to the effort. Elle
hadn’t given up on the project as she'd threatened and along with the two women she’d been
working with had gotten some kids and baby clothes donations from the
stores that Judith had suggested. Actually, sign painting
is a mindless effort once the design has been established so, as I put
the brush to the surface it came to mind that an effort to contact the
people who ran the similar type shop at the church we had attended when
living in the mobile home would be a good idea. I remembered that Elle
had shopped there regularly for clothes for the kids.
I was able
to contact the lady who’d been in charge when we attended that church.
I’d actually seen her any number of times in the bank and, if possible,
would chat with her about how her daughter was doing. The daughter had
been one of the part timers I’d hired when the bank ran the first gift
campaign. All I wanted was a few ‘pointers’ but she insisted that she
come to the bank to meet with me. She was one of those people committed
to whatever project she was involved in and it was obvious that she’d
been a ‘mover and shaker’ when it came to the thrift shop. When she
walked up to my desk she presented me with an outline of what to do and
what not to do. She made a point of verbalizing the fact that if an item
remained for more that four weeks to get rid of it. Before leaving she
gave me an update on her daughter, Karen, who I remembered, vividly. A
very bright girl, she was in her junior year at college but was taking
courses to graduate early. I remember her more from the fact that as she
sat at the table opening accounts she kept her knees spread and that
I’d had many peeks at her ‘magic triangle’.
On my way home I
stopped at the house where the minister lived to leave the paper that
I’d gotten with ’tips’ on running a thrift shop. When I knocked on the
door I was greeted by the young man I’d recently met who had been
invited to live with the minister. He introduced himself as Nick and
invited me in. The minister was with a parishioner so I got a chance to
chat with him. Just discharged from the Army he explained that he had
no idea what he was going to be doing. I can’t explain the reason but I
was impressed with him. Since Nick didn’t know how long the minister
would be I just gave him the paper and headed home. I told Elle about meeting with the lady and the paper with suggestions. One of the biggest that
Elle agreed with was to get more kids clothes. That night I was to work
on the racecar and I hoped Alan and Dick remembered my request for their
kids used clothes.
At the garage Cliffy brought us all up to
date with the plans for the championship weekend. His father had a 20
foot long camp trailer and he was going to let Cliffy use it. He and Dick,
along with their wives, would sleep in it but the really big thing was
that they’d be able to cook for all of us and save us a lot of money.
Davo had made reservations for the rest of us at a cheap motel that was
less than a half hour from the track. The racecar refurbishing was on
schedule but we still needed more money. When he mentioned money all eyes
turned towards Buster. He’d not put anything into the operation since
his original $100 used to buy the car. Usually it was Cliffy who spoke
up but on this night it was Dick. He went right at him telling him if he
didn’t show up with at least $50 by the weekend he was finished as a
partner. In my mind it was about time.
To be continued…
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