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 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."

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 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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