Starting, in the Middle

Welcome to Our Office
I can only imagine what our young, prospective graphic designer thought as he entered our office today. The door opened, and he was immediately surrounded by our all-female staff, who, on a good day, resembles a gaggle of lip-glossed PR fem-bots, ready to kick ass and take names. We’re all smiling pleasantly, batting our eyelashes a little, smoothing our dresses, and we ask him to please forgive the fact that our masseuse is here today. His eyes widen. “Oh, ha-ha,” we say, a little embarrassed. “Yes, we have a masseuse come for a visit every month or so.” We laugh, and show him to the conference area. Perhaps he’s wondering if this is heaven or hell, some trick of the mind, or an inadvertent porno audition (there IS music playing softly in the boss’ dark office, AKA our massage parlor). Or maybe he’s pondering if he needs to sell his soul to work here. I couldn’t read his mind, but judging by the flush of his cheeks, I suppose we’ll be hearing from him next week that he might like to join our bevy of babes in short order.

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