My Day as the Chauffeur
The secretary that worked at the office before me left in a rush. Her reasons became clear once I found out she'd embezzled thousands of dollars from the company. That explained the President's intense scrutiny when I first started the assignment.
The year I moved to Dallas, I pulled up stakes and left behind a house filled with all my worldly possessions. The hardest part of leaving was saying goodbye to the two family members I would miss most: my step-son and my dog. Leaving was the best chance I had for a fresh start somewhere new.
I was lucky that my old '67 Malibu survived the twelve-hundred mile journey without too much trouble. There were a couple of times I had to let the engine cool down, but the fact that it kept running was good news. I had no money set aside for car repair or, for that matter, much of anything.
I wasn't sure I'd be staying in Texas forever. Who could know that sort of thing? Signing up with a couple of temp agencies made it nearly certain that I'd have an assignment every day. During the weeks that followed, I worked in a variety of places across the city of Dallas. It gave me a good idea of where I wanted to work and where I didn't.
This particular assignment was in a luxury suite of a high rise building with offices that took up the entire third floor of the building. A collection of designer couches, antique tapestries and original oil paintings paired with sculptures cluttering the tables in the enormous room that overlooked the freeway. An original Remington bronze figurine of a soldier on a horse rested on the leather covered desktop of the President of the company.
I was pleased to find the latest model IBM memory typewriter on the L-shaped oak desk that soon became my daytime home, There was even a Xerox copier in the alcove behind the reception desk, an expensive luxury not many places could afford.
The refrigerator in the break room was stocked with sodas for guests and a deluxe coffee maker next to the sink. I would be serving the variety of executives that met with my boss. Carting in cases of soda and shopping after hours to replenish the supplies wasn't an issue. I had nothing better to do than spend other people's money.
IBM Selectric Typewriter
For the most part, the principles came in around ten each morning and after making a few phone calls, I made reservations for them at their favorite restaurant. Most of the family members left early in the afternoon leaving much of the day to myself.
With quiet time on my hands, I found a way to fill the hours by overhauling the filing system. Afterward, the dusty files were organized into alphabetical, color-coded folders. Typing out business invoices, reviewing bills, writing payroll checks and administrative duties filled my days. It wasn't long before they asked if I was looking for a real job.
Over time, my duties gradually evolved. In addition to being the president's secretary, supporting her two sons, their wives and several others who worked out of the office. A few weeks into the job, I began to get invitations to join the family for lunch, which was a real treat, since money was scarce.
Apartments in Dallas were more expensive than I could comfortably afford which made the free lunch a boon to my limited funds. I enjoyed expensive meals at fancy restaurants and although I made the reservations, gathered the coats and belongings and paid the bill out of petty cash, I really didn't mind. I almost felt like part of the family, namely, the black sheep.
Then came the day when Miss Jeannie asked me to drive her to downtown Dallas.
It was a crisp sunny day, yet cold enough that she wore a full length fur coat which I stowed in the back seat. I quickly hopped behind the wheel and started the engine and we headed toward the Dallas Tollway and made our way south.
She paused her conversation as needed to give further directions, thankfully, since I didn't know my way around. "You'll be turning off at the next exit, dear," she said, her hand over the receiver of the car phone where she spent a good deal of the ride. At the time, a mobile phone was an expensive luxury in addition to being about the size of a car battery. I couldn't believe someone was actually paying me to drive this brand new luxury automobile with leather seats, power windows and a working heater; something my own car lacked.
She rode in the front seat beside me, making it seem more like we were Thelma and Louise out for an adventure, rather than on the job, really. So we got downtown and she had me pull over to the curb and let her out at some fancy jewelry store. I was supposed to drive around the block and look for a place to park, then, wait for her to come out. It felt more like I was driving the get-away car.
Here I was, trying to maneuver my way around the block with all the one way streets and construction zones that blocked off lanes randomly and unexpectedly, when I unknowingly got stuck in the bus lane.
Traffic was whizzing by on my left as I got stuck next to the curb and blocked in by a bus that pulled to a stop. Suddenly it started raining only it wasn't rain. Huge drops of gray cement begin spattering the windshield. Soon they covered the whole car in liquid drops of concrete from the construction on high rise building above.
I immediately pulled out into the next lane in a panic. Fortunately, there was a small gap in the relentless traffic. I waved a Texan hello to the guy behind me who, luckily, didn't hit me and was kind enough to let me out as he gave me the one-fingered wave.
I pushed the windshield washer button repeatedly and which gave me a moon-shaped view to continue around the block, when I saw Miss J come out of the store. I pulled next to the curb to pick her up knowing there would fireworks about the condition of the car.
Totally engrossed with the velvet box in her hand, she slid across the leather seat to show me her latest purchase. "Oh, thank goodness I was able to find this little trinket for Bob's birthday." She positively radiated with the joy of the moment. I tried not to stare too long at the ten thousand dollar price tag, mentally comparing the amount to my annual salary.
I checked the side mirror and eased into the stream of traffic, pulling the Cadillac away from the curb and made a point to avoid Miss Jeanie's eyes. There was no need to point out the damage to the car, speckled with patches of spattered concrete. When I started to explain how it happened, she interrupted.
"Don't worry, we'll just run it through the car wash," she said with a big smile. "Afterward, you can make reservations for lunch." She beamed again, closing the green velvet box over the sparkling diamond face of the watch. I was truly lucky to have a boss like Miss Jeanie and often thought about her calm reaction that day which could have turned out so much differently than it did. It would be a few months later when I moved into a tiny house on the three-hundred acre ranch. That's when things really changed.
My one-bedroom guest house was on the far edge of the driveway; a direct path to the big house and became the stopping point for visitors and solicitors to check on the availability of the missus. My duty as gate keeper was only the beginning of more to come.
© 2013 Peg Cole
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