Hi-Tech Sissy
by: Jane tv  janetv46@hotmail.com

 

They say it takes all kinds to make a world, but Ted and Carol had begun to take a jaundiced view of this old chestnut. They had arrived at a corollary of startling directness and simplicity: Certain types of people can make life a real bitch for the rest of us.

Engineering manager Carol and engineer-physicist Ted worked at Optical Design Inc, a small high tech company located in a Chicago suburb, which produced lens system designs for optical instruments used in industry and for products such as microscopes, CD lasers and video cameras. Carol was a masculine type of female, almost six feet tall, assertive, even tough when need be, but at the same time liked and respected by everyone for her fairness, integrity and business savvy. Ted on the other hand was not exactly the most masculine of men, as some of the less civilized males in the company were known to point out on occasion. Single, five foot eight and skinny with long straight hair, usually in a ponytail. Looked a bit girlish. A perfect target for the recreational jibes of Joe Cramer the sales manager, a fellow with a mouth, together with quite another part of him, that set him indeed apart from the crowd. A guy who might be considered a combination of Don Rickles and Don Juan; he brown-nosed his boss but treated everyone else like trash. Rumor had it his romantic achievements included a broken engagement in the typing pool, and a homewrecking somewhere further up the organization. Joe was married.

One might suppose Joe could be called a sexist pig, but actually he was an equal opportunity pig. Let engineer Ted betray the slightest indication of shortcoming in an area of endeavor not connected with technical matters, and a snide innuendo from Joe could never be far behind.

To cite just one of the milder examples, last year the country club committee assigned Joe and Ted to the same foursome in the company team golf outing. This decision seriously threatened Joe's chance of winning the prestigious (at least in Joe's eyes) Connor trophy, two of which already adorned his mantel at home. The outing was supposed to be an interlude for relaxation in the fresh air and great outdoors. Instead, the entire day was unpleasantly peppered with Joe's conspicuous moans and groans, his undisguised contempt at Ted's hooks, slices, and other assorted duffed shots. Unfortunately these varieties of shots were almost as abundant as the dandelions in the meadow adjoining the ninth fairway.

During post-round refreshments at the clubhouse, having done a bang-up job of impairing his colleagues' enjoyment of the afternoon, Joe undertook to 'up the ante'. Now generally speaking, the imbibing of alcohol sedates nine out of ten people, and transforms the remainder into a jackass. At this point the reader surely requires but one opportunity at guessing number ten's identity.

One morning on coffee break the conversation somehow turned to the alleged hard time women have in the world. To say that this topic was tailor-made for blowhards is surely the understatement of the twenty-first century.

Joe rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh boy, here we go again".

"You have things easy, you get all the breaks. Preferential hiring, quotas, all this political correctness nonsense. Government handouts of every imaginable kind", he emphatically told Carol and her secretary Betty.

Come on, Joe", interjected Carol, "you know full well those things don't even make an even playing field for us. On the average we still only make two thirds of what you guys make!"

"That's because half you gals quit to have kids. As long as that happens, how can anybody take you seriously?" Now it was Carol's turn to roll her eyes in disgust.

Just as the discussion was about to explode in acrimony, Ted chimed in. Being the analytical type, he hypothesized that the whole controversy is a "grass is greener on the other side of the fence" kind of thing.

"Each sex sees the other as having the better deal in life. It's sort of like relativity. What you see depends on your frame of reference". Ted could never resist a physics analogy.

Then Joe (we can always count on you) Cramer proudly stepped forward with one of his patented zingers.

"Typical Teddy, afraid to take sides. Speaking of sides, are you saying you can see both sides? What does that make you?"

With these profound observations the women were momentarily taken aback, then ventured into the fray once more. Betty was the first to speak up.

"OK guys, prove your point. If you think being female is such a lark, how about let's see you wear pantyhose, a bra, a skirt and high heels for work and see how you deal with it!"

"Ha. Forget it. No way in Hell!" Joe guffawed.

Ted felt he had to make a token show of resistance.

"That's a pretty serious challenge, there better be a serious payoff, Carol. I don't do nuttin' for nuttin', as they say in Chicago politics". Ted could be blunt and down to earth when he felt like it.

"Hmmm...how about this....I will take you out to dinner at restaurants of your choice for a whole week if you do it". Carol knew Ted's weaknesses well.

Since it was a small company with visitors rarely showing up, and at any rate, the company had a well deserved reputation for zany but harmless practical jokes perpetrated by employees and management alike, Ted rationalized it just might be worth dressing up to get some time alone with Carol, on whom he had something of a crush. But he realized he had to play it coy for the time being.

"I'll think about it" said Ted, as the break ended and the women left for their offices.

"That's right, you think about it, Sissy. They wouldn't get me to do that in a million years" Joe blustered, when he thought the women were out of earshot.

"You know Joe," Carol called out, "all guys have a feminine side, even you. A real sissy is the one that's afraid to show that side, and puts on a phony, macho front. That fits you to a tee".

"No need to get huffy Carol. I'm not the one that looks like a pansy. And to see my feminine side, ha! Are you kidding, you'd need one of those 100x oil immersion microscope objectives in our catalog. Maybe even an electron scope. Hardy har de har har har". Joe's Fred Flintstone impressions were especially annoying.

At this evidence of refractory obtuseness and a brain density approaching that of a neutron star, the women sighed heavily, threw up their hands and went back to work.

For years, a chess playing tradition had prevailed in the company lunchroom, at mid-day and occasionally after work hours. The games were generally of the quick variety, where each player gets a total of five minutes to make all his moves. Although top management frowned on it, considerable sums of money were known to change hands according to game results. Joe fancied himself a good player, as good at chess as he was at golf. After all, he regularly beat all his neighborhood friends, and had the lunchroom bunch pretty well intimidated. He noticed Ted was the only engineer who avoided playing chess, in spite of being the intellectual type.

"What's the matter, ego too delicate, can't stand losing, Theodore?". Ted just shrugged with the vague suggestion that he was too busy, and headed back to the design lab.

Carol and the others watched this bully's behavior with increasing irritation. She was about to tell Joe off big time when a big bright halogen light bulb switched on in her head.

"Ted, can I talk to you for a minute in my office?" Since Carol was his boss, he said "Sure, what's up? Is it about Joe? Sure he's a horse's patoot, but since I don't work for him or with him, it's no big deal. But I have to admit he is irksome at times".

"You know I wince every time that happens, Ted, even if it doesn't bother you. I suppose the VP would have canned him by now, if only for sexual harassment. He's such a great salesman they keep him on staff. But something has got to be done about Joe. He's destroying morale in this company, and he's simply got to be cut down to size. And you are going to be instrumental in doing precisely that."

Ted's eyebrows went up almost into his hairline.

"How? Getting itching powder into his trousers or shirt might be a bit tricky, Carol....I've got it, how about getting the goods on his current love affair. Nothing like a few choice microcam pictures spread around the Web!"

"No Ted, I want you to accept his chess challenge", answered Carol with a chuckle.

"You...want...me...to..." Ted seemed nervous at the prospect.

"I've thought the whole thing through. Nothing to fear, just leave it to me. Here's the plan..."

Joe was overjoyed at Ted's acceptance, relishing the prospect of once again making the world safe for Machismo at the expense of wussies like Ted. He happened to meet his fellow-salesman Charlie in the hall outside his office.

"Well, I finally got Ted roped into a match this afternoon. Should be fun and profitable, maybe lucrative, if I know my Teddy boy".

Charlie just gave Joe a thumbs up, a funny look and a funny laugh as he walked away.

"Hahahahahahahah....."

Joe imitated the laugh.

"Yeah right, that sums up the situation pretty good. If you've got the time, stop by and watch me clean him out. See you there, Charlie".

After work, the two antagonists sat down in the lunchroom at a chessboard and drew an unusually large group of kibitzers around them, as if their co-workers sensed an event of momentous significance was about to transpire. Fantastic, Joe thought to himself. The whole company showed up to watch me march this here sissyboy out to the woodshed and whup his, uh, her ass!

"Say big guy", said Carol, who just happened to be strolling by, "why not make it interesting. You two ought to make it a dollar a game".

What perfect timing, thought Joe. Even Carol's doing my work for me!

"Alright by me! I don't know about Theodore here". Ted just nodded his head morosely and moved a pawn two squares forward.

Ted tipped over his King in resignation. Joe had won the first game in 30 moves. Not a walkover, but undeniably a victory. "One dollar, please" he spit out in his supercilious, condescending way, sticking out his hand palm up. With a long face Ted pulled out a bill from his wallet and laid it on the table. Now Joe, flushed with confidence, went for the jugular. "Hey Teddy boy, this one buck stuff is too boring. Why not let's double each game, two bucks next game, four the next and so on, til one of us quits. Whatsa matter, you scared?"

Ted looked worried but finally said ok. Joe gathered the chess pieces, set them up on the board, and reset the special clock. Actually it consisted of two clocks, one for each player, mounted in a single housing.

There followed a second and a third game with similar result, won in 38 and 27 moves respectively. With effort Joe kept his inner exultation under control, not wanting to spook his opponent prematurely. Things were on a roll, and he was the steamroller.

The fourth game? The fourth game was different. Something about the atmosphere had subtly changed. At first Joe thought it was a fluke, that he had simply been distracted by the spectators and had lost his game form temporarily. Soon after he noticed he had run out of cash and was reduced to writing IOUs, but that dauntless bravado born of excess testosterone, which had served him so well in the winning ways of his life, kept him doggedly plugging away like the true competitive woodpusher he was. All he had to do, he knew, was to win one game and he would be even-money again, right back in the match. Piece of cake...

A couple of losses later the worrying notion passed through his mind that Ted might be cheating by somehow receiving directions from someone, or perhaps a computer, but there was no sign of earphones and Ted had kept his eyes riveted to the chessboard throughout. When Joe finally realized the truth it was way, way too late.

Well, to make a long story mercifully short, three hours and fourteen games into the match, Joe's face was as red as a fire truck and his bank account was severely ravaged, to the tune of $16,369. The undiminished crowd? In full throttle, braying with laughter at the by now monotonously dull conclusion of game after game in which Ted methodically and relentlessly crushed Joe's positions as if Ted was a giant python and Joe a defenseless rabbit. The outcome was always the same: a horrific, lopsided blitzkrieg, like Hitler's dive bombers obliterating some hapless little country from the face of the earth. As the farce went on it got even more pathetic as Joe lost his nerve completely, making almost random moves. We might forgive a perceptive observer for concluding that nothing less than a death-wish of Nietzchean proportions lured Joe on and on, hurtling forward to his impending doom....

Even the normally taciturn Ted got into the spirit of things. He leaned forward and whispered to Joe.

"Gosh, maybe I shouldn't be playing with you, Joe. I could pick up some real bad chess habits". At this Joe became more flustered, then apoplectic.

"But then I guess the reward makes it worthwhile, right Joe? A few more and I should be able to make a down payment on that hot Porsche I've had my eye on, and perhaps now is the time to upgrade to a 1.5 gigahertz workstation with a nice 20 inch flat active-matrix LCD monitor for my den. After all, it's the new millennium, right? I can keep up with the latest advances and help support our country's economy at the same time. Don't you think that's a good idea, Joe?"

At long last Joe gave up, covered his face with trembling hands and broke down sobbing like a wiped-out Dotcom stock speculator.

"Jeez, I'm flat busted. Broke!" he wailed. To add insult to injury, Joe realized that no one, not a single solitary one of his colleagues in the company had seen fit to warn him of the disaster that had lain in wait for him. Oh, the excruciating embarrassment of it all, to be taken for a sucker, to be eaten alive by the oldest shark's trick in the book!

The crowd cheered Ted as he stood and took a modest bow.

Carol made her way through the spectators to the front, pulled up a chair and planted herself right next to Joe.

"My, my, what have we here, a man bites dog story? Poor baby! You didn't bother to find out", she mocked in a parody of Joe's own inimitable style, "why Ted stayed away from the games, and you fell right smack into our little trap, Joe. It didn't occur to you that the other players might have shunned him because of, how shall we put it, an excessive skill level, or maybe that Ted simply didn't feel challenged by our little noontime amateur hour? You weren't aware that Ted holds his own with our Pentium 450 running Chess Genius version 5 software? They tell me it's grandmaster strength, just a notch or two below Kasparov the world champion. So you big boob, you waltzed right into an industrial carbide-blade circular saw and got ripped into itsy bitsy bloody shreds. As you can see we all had a terrific time watching you get your butt thrashed, but the fun isn't over yet. Oh nooo, it's just the beginning...".

Joe cringed visibly at this ominous statement. Then the boom fell.

"Joe, I think Ted might forgive your debt if you agree to do something for all of us". Ted instantly lost his mirthful expression and almost glared at Carol.

"Everyone, over the past few months and much discussion of the question of who might or might not be the real sissy in our midst, I tell you here and now that the fog of mystery has lifted and we are about to discover the truth of this matter. We're about to find out who the real sissy is here...", continued Carol.

"What?", snuffled Joe. Betty brought forward a paper shopping bag and set it down in his lap. Joe took one glance inside and recoiled as if he had seen his own death. Frilly lingerie?! A petticoat?! Panties?! A bra?! A skirt!!! And most lethal of all these terrifying items, Five Inch High Heels!!!

"Arrrrggghhh! No, not that!" roared Joe.

"Oh yes Joe, it's either this, or all of us will make very certain that you pay Ted your $16,369 debt in full. Every last cent. If need be, we'll accompany you to your bank and stand there while you make the withdrawal. Better think about that, Joe. You've got five minutes before we start dressing you up as a sweet little teeny girl, Josephine. Nice name, that. And don't worry, we made sure everything is your size!"

The employees of O-D Inc had never beheld such a spectacle in all of their illustrious history. A spectacle notable not only for its rare and exceptional nature, but for health hazards, too. Some of those present, of weak constitution, experienced temporary breathing difficulties induced by uncontrollable laughter. A few had near-seizures from the concentrated comic potentiality that pervaded the room, not to mention one contusion from rolling off one's chair and hitting the head on the floor. It bordered on one of those nine-one-one situations of the sort that give CEOs and comptrollers nightmares about higher insurance premiums.

And what of poor Josephine? The former Joseph Cramer, high powered sales manager, never to be taken seriously again in his entire life? Poor Josephine spent the first agonizing moments of her new life trying to appear nonchalant; she laughed along with the crowd, desperately figuring it would mollify and placate the screaming, clamoring multitude. She quickly realized it was useless; the good-natured group, now morphed by primordial pack-instinct into a mean-spirited mob, wised to her tactic. It only made them laugh at her that much harder. She gave up and lowered her head, her face crumpled and she began to cry, as the merciless hooting from all those whom Joe had insulted and offended through the years battered her ears with shame. Paper spitwads and doughnuts pelted her. Rhythmic chants of "Sis-sy!, sis-sy!, sis-sy!" reached out and touched Josephine, struck her like brickbats. Louder and louder came the abuse above the tumult.......

Ah, at this point, in the interest of decorum and decency, we shall draw a curtain on the proceedings....(fade to black).

Next day Ted and Carol were in her office discussing the recent events. Somehow Ted trusted Carol. He felt his shyness evaporate and amazed himself by speaking freely.

"Remember when Joe asked if I could see both sides? I know he meant to make fun of me. What he implied was that I had both sexes, both genders living inside of me. Strange as it is to admit it, he was right. And when 'Josephine' came slunking out of the washroom dressed in female clothes, mincing along on those wicked heels, on the surface I enjoyed the show and laughed along with everybody else, but in a way, deep down, I felt envy".

For a long moment, Carol gazed at Ted and considered her reply.

"Ted, I have known for a long time that you are very special. You are not afraid to be yourself. And I like that".

Ted spent the next few moments controlling an emotional surge.

"I think you're very special too, for understanding" said Ted, as his eyes misted over. Carol looked at him expectantly.

"And for being one heck of an attractive chick, and I like that" added Ted with a Groucho Marx stage whisper, and an imaginary Groucho cigar. Carol laughed, then actually blushed.

They looked each other in the eye for several seconds. Finally Carol spoke in a low voice.

"Now Ted don't take this wrong...I would never do anything to hurt you..."

Ted looked quizzically at her.

"But I love that special side of you and I'd really enjoy seeing you dressed as a woman....I mean at my place, not here". She put special emphasis on the word 'really'.

Ted beamed a smile a lightyear wide at her. Carol felt relieved that she had not offended him.

"I would like that....I would love so very much to dress up for you" said Ted, joy overpowering any trace of reticence in him.

As it turned out, Ted and Carol liked each other a lot.

 

 

 

*********************************************
© 2001 by Jane tv. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.