Career Shift
Keywords: Career, Shift,
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Receptions are not my favourite things in the world to attend. I don't mingle and 'rub elbows' like agents and sales people do. I usually end up at the bar drinking alone, looking at all the phoney people. I am a writer, a sports column writer more specifically. The magazine that I write for is one of the biggest national publications with a huge male readership. They were promoting the new issue, which featured a calendar and had the entire hotel convention facilities booked. I was obliged to attend.
I had no reason to complain about my job. It paid great, I worked very little, and I had the prestige of bragging that I write for one of the top five magazines in the country. My column is usually three to five pages per month, which includes up to a page and a half of photographs. I had been writing box scores and rehashing press releases when this magazine started up and was building its staff. I was in the right place at the right time and for the first few months worked for nothing. Now after three years, my monthly expense account is more than my first two years salary as a writer.
Like I said, I am obliged to attend these functions. I do however make the best of them. You see, once and a while I get this urge to do something very out of character. A while back after a party, a female guest had left behind her bra in my bathroom. For whatever reason, she never claimed it back. I kept it for a long time and one day I got this notion to try it on. It was a sexy leopard print design with black lace trim. I loved the way it felt and found myself posing in front of a mirror. Things progressed after that when I bought a pair of panties and a garter belt to match. I then got my hands on a hot black dress with leopard print trim around the collar, and sheer black sleeves. I kept going and bought a pair of 4" black patent pumps and black stockings. I put on my entire outfit and posed in front of the mirror. I remember thinking that with my slim, athletic figure that I could almost pass for a woman. I decided to complete the package by purchasing a curly, red haired wig and makeup. After several practice sessions at home, I felt that I could pass as a woman in public. I had the urge to try it but wasn't ready to just walk out my apartment door like that. I had to keep it a secret. This hotel was an excellent opportunity.
I brought my outfit with me from home and checked into my room early. The reception was at seven, and I was in by three. I showered and shaved in the room and then did my makeup. My green eyes were framed in an abundance of mascara and my lips, bright cherry red. I put on my wig, my leopard undergarments, my dress, stockings and high heels. After a dash of perfume, I set out from my room and rode the elevator to the lobby. One guy stepped on and was checking me out, which was my first test. I passed and sighed a great relief. I was wearing a pair of sunglasses that disguised me a bit more but left my big false eyelashes in full view. I confidently strutted threw the hotel lobby catching a few stares along the way, but I figured out of admiration more than suspicion. A couple wolf whistles confirmed this. I was as high as a kite with the adrenaline rush from this adventure. I even walked into a few of the fashion shops in the area and the women in the stores seemed none the wiser. There is a real sense of power that comes from a dress. The feeling that all eyes are on you and want you is a thrill. I had done bungee jumping, rock climbing, even skydiving and this was right up there.
I hadn't noticed how much time had past and started back to my room. It was getting late so I got out of my female cloths and quickly washed off my makeup. I hurried into my male attire, grey jacket and pants with blue shirt and silver tie, and headed for the convention room for the reception. My heart was still pounding from the excitement I had experienced. I did my required greetings with the chief editor and a few of the other writers then made my way to the bar. The social aspect of these events was almost plastic. I would spend the rest of the evening waiting for my queue to leave while drinking as much as possible. I would however have the recent memory of my walk in feminine attire to relish privately for the rest of the night.
After my second or third drink, a stunning creature shattered my solitude. She sat in the seat right next to me even though there were many empty ones all along the bar. I had never seen her before. She was probably late thirties, blue eyes, and sassy brown hair in tight curls, incredibly beautiful with an hourglass figure wrapped in a tight black cocktail dress. I noticed her charcoal stockings had seems up the back that were very sexy. She wore 5" stilettos that put her at my height. She smiled at me, charmed by my staring. I gave my head a shake and introduced myself and offered the pretty lady a drink. She took a cosmopolitan and I had another dry martini. She kept her bright blue eyes locked tightly onto mine and she never stopped smiling. I don't usually pick up women easily. I am not ugly or anything like that, just kind of plain looking and shy. This was a pleasant surprise. She introduced herself as Audrey Kline. Bells went off in my head immediately. I recognized her name as the owner of "Go Girl" magazine. She must know some of the top brass at my magazine. I was thrilled to meet her in person and would never have guessed her to be so good looking.
We made some small talk about the party, and then she started asking about me. She was very familiar with my work and claimed to admire my writing style. I knew that she wasn't full of it either as she quoted a few of my articles. I was totally enchanted by her. The next thing she did was a complete surprise too. Audrey told me that my style was ideal for her readers and that she would like to see me writing at her magazine. I was a bit shocked by the job offer. It was a women's magazine after all. I told Audrey, "That's very flattering but I write for a men's magazine and don't know if my work would be right for yours."
"Nonsense, modern women are big on extreme sports and I know that you love writing about that stuff. We are progressive and don't want to be another puff fashion magazine. I think that you should meet with or chief editor and talk about it," Audrey argued. She did have a point. My magazine was huge but I didn't have the creative freedom that I wanted. I love women's tennis but the only way I could write about it in my current job was if it had something to do with Anna Kornakova's hemline. Audrey handed me a card with the name of her chief editor, Tom Hadden and told me I could call him as early as Monday morning to set something up. At that point she finished her drink, gave me peck on the cheek and made her exit. I was stunned and disappointed. Had all that been a head hunting exercise? I really wanted to take her to my room. It all seemed too weird.
All weekend I contemplated the offer. It would be foolish in a way to leave a magazine as successful as "The Max", but I had been feeling stagnant and unappreciated lately. Monday morning came and I gave Tom Hadden's office a call. The receptionist had a dreamy, bedroom voice. I remember how hot she sounded and tried to picture her in my head. Tom Hadden was expecting my call and eagerly set up an interview for the next day.
I fretted all morning wondering what to wear. I opted for a stylish olive and kaki suit that I figured would be more female friendly than a masculine power suit. The head office for "Go Girl" magazine was on the 29th floor of a big office building downtown. The parade of hot looking career women going in and out of the building was endless. If nothing else I should take the job just for the scenery. I rode the elevator up to floor twenty-nine and entered the offices of "Go Girl". It was very posh with low lighting and a large assortment of plants. It made sense, considering the magazine ran a monthly interior-decorating column. The receptionist was a sweet young blond with long curly hair and green eyes. She was better looking than I pictured in my head. Her face was flawless and when she stood up to greet me I was taken by her incredible figure. Her sexy black skirt didn't hurt either, which flattered her round ass and shapely legs. She wore black seemed stockings like Audrey's and her shoes had to be five inches high. The young lady introduced herself as Janey and led me too Mr. Hadden's office. The corridors were quiet and dim, but I was enchanted by the wiggle of Janey in front of me. I had passed what looked like a research room and noticed two more very hot looking, and well-dressed young women inside. We finally arrived at Mr. Hadden's office and were met by his private secretary. The tall brunette greeted us and informed me that Mr. Hadden was expecting me. She then gave Janey a glance with her brown eyes they shared a smile and a wink. Janey returned to her desk.
The tall, slim secretary was nothing short of drop-dead gorgeous. Her hair fell to her shoulders in a pageboy style and she wore glasses that seemed to accent her sexy eyes. She wore a charcoal grey skirt sit with a maroon blouse. She also had legs that could stop traffic covered in seemed stockings. I was beginning to see a trend. Her shoes were black paten leather stilettos with a wide ankle strap. She was a walking wet dream. She escorted me into the office and I met Mr. Hadden. He was a short man with a brush cut but looked fit and youthful and was dressed in a two-piece silver suit. He got up to shake my hand and turned to his secretary who was patiently standing by. "Natalie can you bring us coffee please," he politely asked. She turned and left and I could not help myself watch her glide away.
"Natalie is pretty hot, isn't she?" Tom asked, knowing that I was checking her out. He winked at me as if to say that we could be non politically correct.
"I don't know how you could ever get any work done," I added, making Tom laugh knowingly.
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Keywords: Career, Shift,