T.J.'s Experiment In Pink

by Anne O'Nonymous

 

PART NINE

 

"Terri, I heard you were working. Where?" asked Gina.

"I'm a temporary Personal Assistant to Ms. Mueller, Nancy's mom," I replied.

"A secretary?"

"More or less."

Gina seemed to be fascinated by this. She continued, "You do more than one thing at a time."

"W-e-e-l-l-l, I can type, drink coffee, answer the pager, and run the copier, but that's the extent of it."

Sandra added: "Terri is rather good at her job. I think his being raised to help with housework has a lot to do with it."

A puzzled Gina asked, "Why?"

"Okay, imagine a baseball game: a man comes up to the plate, knocks dirt from cleats, takes practice swings, etc. That is a serial activity; one action follows after another. Now, take cooking as an example. Water heating in one pot, onions and mushrooms sautéing in another, peppers getting chopped, and a recipe checked. These are parallel activities. Each item must be kept in mind when cooking a full meal."

"And Terri cooks?"

"All of us in the family do housework and cook," Sandra added.

"Emm, is Terri dating anybody?"

"Get in line, dear," Nancy said gently.

It was around 3:45 p.m. when the girls started to leave. Gina kissed me and whispered her thanks as she hugged a little longer than the rest. I think she accepts my male/female presence, possibly taking what each side has to offer. I'm now beginning to use one part to bolster the other.

For supper that night, Sandra and I collaborated on a shrimp-tuna-mushroom-spaghetti casserole, with two sizes of shrimp (Lagostino and Tiger) and using two cans of cream of mushroom soup. Mom had invited Kathy and Nancy over, so there were five for dinner.

Actually, it came out better than we hoped for. The added wine may have helped a bit.

Enjoying an after-dinner coffee, Nancy Mueller told Kathy about Gina's falling asleep on my lap. Kathy smiled a strangely gentle smile as if quietly saying, "That's what I would expect of you."

Kathy then said, "Terri, I'll be away from the office from Wednesday to Friday to attend to a personal matter. Nancy will still be 'in the office,' and all calls are being redirected to a designated vice-president. You and Nancy will be reporting to your mother's office to work on a special assignment."

Mom was next: "Terri and Nancy, the company is going to produce a series of CDs to help teenaged girls learn how to properly use makeup. The two of you will be featured."

Now I was stunned! Me? Teach a young lady about makeup? Whoa Nellie!

Mom continued: "The scene will be the two of you going into a store and getting a make-over. We'll have an expert cosmetologist show the proper application of all cosmetics. We will add the CDs to the line, which should boost sales."

"Bu . . . bu . . . , what if somebody guesses . . . I mean . . . Oh hell."

Nancy was bubbling, "Oh, that sounds wonderful! I really would like to see you all made up, Terri."

Well, one thing was for sure – I hope they don't show my "boyish" charm.

Later, after dishes were done, all of us sat down and played some cards. I would have opted for strip poker, but I was a lousy player. S-o-o-o, we settled for a regular game and discussed the photo shoot.

Did I say "regular" game? God, there was 5-card draw, baseball, lo ball, spit in the ocean, Texas hold-'em, Omaha hold-'em, and three varieties of stud. I was glad it was only dime and quarter stuff, otherwise I would've been in debt!

"Terri," mom said after opening for a dime, "we'll take several videos of you and Nancy at the mall going into a store. I've already cleared it with the owner."

I raised a dime on a pair of aces. "Why several, and not just one?"

"We'll try several ideas to get the best angles, also for splicing purposes."

Kathy raised, "Up a quarter. It's possible that the extra footage will come in handy."

Nancy dropped, and I saw the bet.

Mom put her money in, and dealt the next cards. "Pot right?"

Out of curiosity, I asked, "What about the interior?"

"Open for a quarter. We made a copy of the store's interior at the work studio, so all we need are exterior shots. That way, we can control sound and camera positioning. We won't have people around asking, 'Are you making a picture? Do you need any extras? Can I be in it? My little girl would be perfect,' and so on."

"Oh," I said, looking at a non-wild deuce, "So how many will there be around?"

Kathy raised again, then replied, "Nancy, a cosmetologist, camera one operator, sound technician, your mother on camera two, set dresser, and possibly three more. The actresses will all wear wireless microphones, so any other ambient sounds will be added later. Also, there will be headphones on each of you, so there is no need to memorize a script!"

Sandra dropped, I stayed – three of us left.

"Pot right?" mom, more or less, stated, "Here they come!" as she dealt.

My hole card was an ace, with an ace showing. Mom had a pair of fours showing, while Kathy showed a pair of threes.

I got a deuce, Kathy paired a queen, and mom paired a seven. I dropped, leaving them to fight it out!

After three raises, mom showed trip sevens while Kathy turned a queen – full house, queens over threes.

On my deal, we played baseball. Twice I matched the pot, only to have my four tens lose to five kings, three of them hidden. How embarrassing!

About nine thirty, I cashed in my pitiful pile of chips, went up and did my usual "beauty" routine, then proceeded to bed in an ankle-length multicolored nylon nightgown.

Monday and Tuesday were routine: usual typing, deliveries to the mail room, pick up lab reports, getting production reports, filing, and so forth – nothing out of the ordinary, although I did sit in on some tests to determine what type skin I had. That was to be used later in the makeup session on the video.

Wednesday came; Sandy made a French toast and sausage breakfast with blueberry, honey and maple syrup on the side. Fresh orange juice and coffee completed the meal. This was the day to start my "acting" career.

When the meal was finished and the dishes washed and put away, I went up for a shower, after which I dusted with a lilac-scented powder and spritzed with Charlie, then put on cotton-blend panties and bra – typical teenage undies. A white T-shirt (with "Daddy's Little Princess" printed on it) and a pair of cerise slacks followed by knee-high white socks and saddle shoes. The addition of a charm bracelet and heart pendant plus only a touch of blusher and lipstick should make me look two years younger.

"Tea, you about ready?" came from Sandra just outside the door.

"Hey Sandy, I need help! How should I do my hair?"

"High pony tail," she announced as she entered the room, "I'll give you a hand, sis." Well, in a few minutes, she had the hair brushed, pulled up and secured by a scrunchie. A boy's baseball jacket would make me a more believable "girl out shopping." A quick look confirmed that I did indeed look like a teenage girl – goodbye career girl, hello Nancy Drew. I did draw the line at a baseball cap.

We went down and waited for mom. Since Sandra was free that day, she would be helping with the videotaping at the mall. She took one camera and packed it in a bag, along with several cassettes – damn near enough to make a feature-length movie.

Mom came down to us, casually dressed in sweatshirt and jeans, carrying a second camera. "Well, you ready?"

"I'm ready for my close-up," I said, thinking of Sunset Strip. Before we left, mom took several Polaroid shots of me as "Miss Teenager of . . .."

Since Nancy Mueller was to drive us to the shooting location, I grabbed one camera from mom, Sandra carried the other, and mom hoisted a bag of extra cassettes, camera batteries, and a folder of documents. Each of us had extra makeup, tissues and cold cream in our shoulder bags. (I was getting quite used to slinging a bag on my shoulder whenever I went out. Oh, school will be fun this year if I forget and play "take your handbag to school" one day!) It was out the door and down to the curb.

We had just made it to the porch when a familiar car turned the corner and parked in front of the house. Nan came up to help us get the "stuff" to the car.

Mom had her stand on our lawn while she took more Polaroids. Nan was dressed in a boy's shirt, blue jeans, anklets and docksiders, with her wavy hair loosely flowing over her shoulders and back.

"Another employee is taking mom to the airport – her plane leaves at noon," Nan announced as we all piled in. I was in back with Sandra, while mom sat up front guiding Nan to the mall.

During the trip, my mind kind of drifted back to the weekend. Sitting there with Gina, holding her as I was, and being so comfortable in dresses and skirts. And yet, I did not feel any less masculine – not in the least! I remembered the construction site; how a field of weedy overgrowth and discarded household trash was turning into new, affordable housing. Was that what the clothes did – turn a sorry mess of a male into a bright, energetic female? Hah! But there was some intangible difference in me and I liked this new quality.

"Quarter for your thoughts, Tea," Sandra said, reaching over to take my hand.

"Oh, I was just thinking about Gina."

"Hey, that was great! She worried about being liked, making friends, and such," Sandra replied. "Getting her to sleep . . . well, she really needed the rest."

"TJ, what's this about you sleeping with a girl, other than your sister," mom teased, "You know what I mean."

Sandra continued, "We have a fresh girl in the group, and she was having a hard time sleeping. At the meeting, she sat on Terri's lap and fell asleep, her head on his shoulders. He had his arms around her just like a protective parent. They really looked so cute together, like mother and daughter."

Nan added, "I was there Mrs. M! It was all very innocent, and that's just how they looked."

I looked out at the passing world, leaving them to discuss the level and degree of the thralls of passion that passed between Gina and myself. Billboards advertising Mickey D's, a local motel and a Dairy Queen flowed by; two intersections with a small amount of morning traffic passed; and the entrance to a shopping center soon put behind us.

More questions came to mind: "Males and females have different hormones with somewhat smaller levels of hormone of the opposite sex, i.e., males have estrogen and females, testosterone. Is it possible that the level of hormone can be regulated by outside factors? Does the wearing of softer female clothes, use of make-up, and affectation of feminine mannerisms affect these hormonal levels in some manner? Or is the converse true – that an elevated estrogen level makes these men behave as they do? If, in fact, these men have a female brain, is it possible for that, in itself, to cause the production of more estrogen? Most interesting!"

"Tea, honey. Can I ask you a very serious question?"

"Sure, mom. Ask away," I said.

"Now I am thinking of your future here, dear, so please don't get angry if this sounds wrong to you, okay?"

Was I in trouble? No, no reason to be in hot water. "Mom, ask already!"

"When you turn eighteen, would you like to have a sex change? Or, if you want it now, I will sign any papers necessary for you."

WOW, talk about a safe or piano falling on you – this was a two-in-one shot! This was an out-of-the-blue, entirely unexpected question – now, how to answer?

"Mom, you saw those sites on the 'net. I like the feel of soft clothes, the aroma of nice perfume, and the sound of my heels as I walk around; and, if I get an operation, I fear I will lose that wonderful sensation – that it will become an everyday occurrence. I don't want to lose that sense of wonder. Some day I will, hopefully, marry and I want to give you the precious gift of grandchildren. Mom, I want the best of both the male and female worlds, and with an operation, I go back to being half a human."

I felt the sense of relief from everyone present. One thing I did learn was that I wanted children, to father them, comfort them when they were hurt, be happy at their joy, to hold them as only a mother can – I wanted to be their ALL! And, damn it all, it isn't too much to ask!

By the time we found the mall and parked, my euphoria had peaked. Nan locked up the car, opened the trunk, and we all grabbed various items and headed for the entrance.

Bayview Mall was odd in that there wasn't a bay for miles, and not much of a view, either. We checked in at the mall office, showed the documentation with the necessary permits, and explained what we would be doing, then repeated the scenario, with a different set of documents, at the security office. It was a walk down one corridor, a right turn and a short walk to the front of "A Nu Yu." The group trooped into the establishment, and requested to see the manager.

While mom explained to the clerk and manager what was going on, I looked around at all the bottles, jars, tubes, and containers filled with gels, lotions, creams (and crèmes), and ointments in white, green, pink and yellow colors – a real alchemist's shop. Off near the rear of the place stood three chairs similar to the ones used in store makeup demonstration areas. Hand mirrors lay on a nearby table, as well as a sink replete with hand and face towels. One fact became quite clear, all the products were natural – that is, they contained very little man-made chemicals.

"Okay then, we have a deal!" I heard mom say. She continued, "The store will be mentioned in the closing credits, future orders during the next year will get an additional five percent discount, and both you and your clerk will be in the opening sequence."

A handshake sealed the agreement, and we went outside to set up and block out the approach to the store.

Outside, as we faced the store, on the right was a ladies apparel shop, and on the left a drug store, followed by a hobby shop. Opposite the drug store was a service corridor that led out to a loading dock. Since it would be natural for a girl to go into the apparel shop, we would start on the left just before the drug store, a neutral area, pass the hobby shop, male area, and come upon the makeover shop. After a look in the window, a few "giggles," and a "let's see what they got," we would enter.

After getting a wireless mike on and tested, the earpiece on and tested, Nan and I were ready. Mom had a stopwatch, Sandra had a camera, and I had butterflies.

We started out, arm in arm, just before the drug store, walked past, passed the hobby shop and up to the window.

"That was good. But I need you to be slower, and show some animation. Turn your head, talk, give an 'oh look at that' at the stores and the windows, point for each other; this is a motion picture, you know," said C. B. whatshername.

So we did it again and again. Starting our fourth run-through, I spotted something that didn't seem quite right. Two rather large men hurried past us, one carrying a little girl over his shoulder, and turned down the corridor towards the loading area. The girl was crying, holding out her arms and trying to say something.

"Mom, get security ASAP! There's something going on here!" I managed to say, hoping this wireless thingie was working. I grabbed Nan, and we took off running after the two men.

Well, Sandra heard me as she joined us in the corridor. The men were stopped by a locked door and turned to face us. To get away, they had to get past!

"Well, well, well! Lookie here, Jake. We got company!" one man sneered.

"The more, the merrier for us!" the other answered, "I always did like screwing older women."

Each "man" was about 6'2" tall, weighed about 220 or so, and grinning at whatever lewd idea they had in mind. They thought they faced three weak teenaged bimbos.

"Put her down, NOW!" Sandra commanded.

"Aw, the widdle girlie wants us to play."

Nancy added, "I think I'd like to play," as she moved slightly to the right. "Sandra, you okay there?"

"Yep, I'm fine!"

Sandy threw the first punch at the stomach, and gave two sidekicks for good measure. The other guy, seeing his buddy in trouble, dropped the girl and turned to help. Nancy pushed the girl over to me and joined in. Seeing mom coming, I pushed the girl towards her, and wanted to get my licks in. I used a knee on one; Nancy followed, putting him down with a rabbit punch then a knee to the jaw. Sandra had her "guy" by the shirt, and exploded with a devastating punch to the jaw, chop at the throat, then a second, finally dropping him with her knee placed in a most painful position. He joined his compatriot on the floor. I manage to get in a few kicks to both of the "bastards" before Sandra pulled me away – I considered myself a mother going up against a pair of "muthas."

Security finally shows up, with a tearful mother, after it was over. Guys claimed we attacked them – yeah, sex-crazed teenage girls attack two celibate behemoths – and want us arrested. Police show up to haul the "perps" away in handcuffs, as the girl's mother files a complaint, charging them with kidnapping. We get the thanks from mother, security, and police. I especially enjoyed the kiss and hug from the little victim – that little kiss and thank you made it all worthwhile.

In any case, mom had a video tape running at the time, and caught the whole thing. She gave the tape to police as evidence. The four of us gave statements to the authorities, and mall security supplied security camera tapes.

"Well, how does it feel to be a hero," mom said.

"Mom, Sandy and Nancy were the heroes, not me. They're the ones who took those jerks down."

"Hey Tea," Nancy started, "we're a team! It's a team – win or lose."

Sandy added, "Do you suppose we would have done what we did without someone to back us up?"

The owner of the shop heard the commotion and came out, catching the tail end of the action. After she was filled-in, she let us use the back of her store to re-organize ourselves and clean up a bit – not one broken nail among us -- and agreed to new terms. (Only a five percent discount for a year.)

With the excitement over, we went back to "talking, looking in windows and walking to the store."

With Sandra recording and operating one camera, mom on a second, security helping with a slowly gathering crowd, Nan and I walked up to the drug store and a perfume display, past the hobby shop, and up to the shop window.

"Oh look, they're offering lessons in makeup usage," said Nan, for the third time.

"But they'll probably be pushing their own products on us," I replied, for the third time.

"It says that the lessons are free! Besides, the more you know about a product, the better off you'll be," she stated.

"Okay, it can't hurt," I said as I reached for the door.

After varying words, positions at windows, lengths of walk and camera positions (i.e., fixed; mom following at one side, behind, in front), the group decided to break for lunch. I got to carry a camera, recorder, and Sandy's shoulder bag, in addition to my own. The others were also loaded down. We looked like some Hollywood production company, and actually got some admiring glances as we entered the restaurant. Waiters fell over each other wanting to seat four attractive women. Men -- show them a nice leg, and they'll sit up and bark like a dog for you.

With the equipment carefully stowed under the table, our group ordered salads, lo-cal dressing, and fruit juice. Sandra and I were especially hungry, so when the salad arrived, we tore into it. Well, I did apply Ranch dressing first.

Halfway through our noon repast (Oh so cultured, don't you think?), an important-looking security type showed up at the door and, after the waiter pointed us out, proceeded to our table, coughed to get mom's attention, and politely waited.

"Yes, can I help you?" mom requested.

"Are you the ones that caught the kidnapping attempt this morning?" the large gentleman asked.

"Well, the police already have what I managed to get on tape. My assistant and two models were the ones who tackled the guy," replied mom.

Nan, Sandra and I just kept on eating. Being a model can be s-o-o-o fatiguing, doncha know!

"Those two are wanted in five states down south for a series of attacks. There's a reward of ten thousand dollars posted for their capture. With the video you supplied, they can be put away for a very long time!"

Mom blanched, stuttered, regained her composure, and stated, "Ten thousand? I never expected, I mean all we did, oh God, I don't want a reward, do we?"

The last was, obviously, directed at us – the heroes of the day. Rhetorical question? Nah, we did what we thought was right – that was enough.

The large type smiled, handed mom two envelopes, and replied, "The reward payment has already been authorized, and this is from a grateful management. Please, I don't dare go back with these." As he turned to leave, mom thought of something that needed to be asked, "What about the media? I don't want to be in the papers."

If TJ's picture got in the papers, there is a possibility someone might make a connection.

"On the TV and in the news, mall security will be taking full credit for the capture. It's good publicity for us, and good for your privacy," he stated and left before mom could say a word.

"Okay, mom, looks like you're stuck with them," I said facetiously, as I finished my juice.

"Let's see what's in them, mom," Sandra added.

Not to be left out, Nan put in with, "Yeah, open them."

Mom carefully opened the envelopes, almost like she was going to reuse them at some future date. She pulled two papers out of the envelope and looked at them. It was a Kodak moment! The papers were passed around, each recipient repeating mom's expression. In my turn, I did the same; one check was for 10G's, and the other, from the mall, 5G's.

When we went to pay for our meal, we were told it was already taken care of. I knew I should've ordered the steak and eggs.

(Seems the little girl that was rescued was the daughter of the daughter of a vice-president in the mall holding company.)

When we finished our meal, the restroom beckoned and, in pairs, we did the necessary – repairing the meager cosmetics. All through, the group returned to do the "entrance to the store" scenes.

There were outside- and inside-the-store shots of Nan and I entering the store. But, the part I enjoyed most was roaming through the store, hand-in-hand with Nan. (I started calling her Nan to avoid confusion with mom. She didn't stop me; in fact, she seemed to like it!) Since it was a slow day, we were the only customers in the store, so everything worked out fine.

At the end of our shooting, mom surprised the store owner/clerk with a $200 check. We walked, rather slowly, out to the car, mom reviewing what scenes were taken, on what was what (she shot different angles and places on different cassettes), and placed the labeled cassettes in the "used" bag she was carrying.

As soon as the equipment was stored in the trunk, we got in the car. Nan relinquished the driving to mom so she could sit in the back with me. Sandra and mom rode up front and occasionally looked back at our hand holding escapades. All we needed now was a lollypop to share.

From the mall parking, we turned onto a road different from the one we entered on. At a furniture store we made a left, and at the next light a right turn. About two-and-a-half miles later, we pull into "Paul Joseph's," a seafood restaurant, and park in front. Four minutes later, mom is holding down a table while the young 'uns are in the ladies, washing up and fixing faces. I added a little blusher, lipstick, and brushed my hair a bit. Feeling a mite more presentable, we went out and let mom do her thing.

As I walked back, I could feel the eyes follow. It kind of made me wish I had worn heels and a skirt. Give them a little more to drool over. Men!

Sitting, wearing slacks, is easier than with a skirt, but it sort of felt wrong. Anyway, I looked over the menu, trying to avoid the prices ("Wow, $5.50 for a shrimp cocktail!"), and settled on something called Pasta della Mare de Joseph, containing shrimp, scallops, crab meat, baby clams in sauce over homemade pasta and covered with a special lo-cal white sauce. I was afraid to look at the price, so I covered it.

The waiter arrived with complimentary garlic bread sticks, a carafe of white house wine, and four glasses. WOW, I get wine, too! No water though, drought restrictions. When he took our orders, I watched mom as she looked at the menu.

My turn came, and I said, "I'll have the Pasta della Mare de Joseph and can I have some extra cheese on the side, please."

"Certainly," replied the waiter.

Mom followed, "That sounds great – I'll have the same, waiter. And leave the menus, please, so we can order dessert and coffee later."

"Very good, ma'am," replied the waiter, leaving to put the order in.

"Ah, mom, did you look at the price?"

"Why? Kathy is covering the cost. It's going on the company's card."

Ah yes, it's nice to have an executive in the family. I took a breadstick, broke it and munched away.

 

To Be Continued –

Annie O

 

 

 

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© 2003 by Ann O'Nonymous. 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.