Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Skanky Housecleaning and Goldwingers

I've recently been toying with the idea of cleaning/organizing houses during the off-season. Last winter I worked in a bar (not really my style). Apparently, this is who is "training" me in the fine art of scrubbin' floors.

I am standing in front of a tall, slender, pale girl with long straight dark brown hair. She's beautiful. (Skanky-beautiful).
She's wearing a white one piece mini skirt dress that looks like a "naughty  nurse" costume that is two sizes too small for her, the fabric is pulled so tight it's nearly transparent. She can't close the top around her large fake breasts.

She's wearing thigh-high blue and gray argyle stockings with a black garter belt and shiny black stripper heels. She is looking through black-rimmed eyeglasses and has her hair up in a claw clip.
Her legs are long and slender and they make me more aware of my shorter physique.

Time Travel

I now have the "uniform" on (the white nurse/housecleaning dress). My outfit fits me better than the girl who is training me.
I'm wearing one of my semi-transparent button up sweaters that I wear over tanktops at work when it's hot out (I can't show my tattoos). I ask the girl what she thinks out me showing my tattoos to the clients. She says I should "feel each client out to see if they offend them."

Time Travel

I'm on my hands and knees on a white tile floor in a large, lavish, chandelier-lit entryway. I'm scrubbing the tiles vigorously . My sweater is on.
There is a man dressed in a white collar button down and black slacks with black shiny, square toed shoes standing about 15 feet behind me. Watching me work.

Time Travel
I'm walking into work through the back door in the service department (where I always come in) and I wave to the "Goldwingers" in the customer lounge. (I come in everyday and wave to the old men in the room.)
I'm wearing the naughty nurse/housekeeper outfit.

I look through the window and see a pretty sexy man in his late 20s or early 30s. He's got pale skin, dark brown short spiked hair and piercing blue eyes. (He looks like a man named Chad, a customer of mine with whom I've had quite an extensive retail history).

I lock eyes with him as I make my way  past the window and as I walk around the corner into the room, I feel embarrassed to be wearing something so scandalous in front of my elderly friends.
I walk into the room and "Chad " is kneeling in front of me, looking up.

Then I wake up.

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