by Robert Price
I thought I would be able to manage by myself when Sandra, my Personal Assistant for the previous five years, left work to look after her young family. However, business unexpectedly began to pick up and I soon found I was struggling to cope with the additional workload. Accepting that Sandra was unlikely to return in the foreseeable future, the only sensible thing to do was to advertise for a new PA.
Whittling down the applicants to a shortlist of three for interview was not too difficult as there were only five applicants in total, and one of those was either illiterate or dyslexic. My guess is the former since most dyslexics, in my experience, would ask a friend to read over their application, but if they had done so then their friend must have been either illiterate or dyslexic as well.
Bill was a more interesting candidate. I pride myself on being an equal opportunity employer and, although he was not quite what I had in mind for a PA, I seriously considered calling him to interview even though he admitted he had no prior experience. In fact he explained in his covering letter that he was a bricklayer by trade, but was looking for a change in career. However, on re-reading his application it became clear that he thought a Personal Assistant was some sort of bodyguard, whereas I was really looking for someone who could do a bit of typing. Although I have had a few disgruntled clients over the years, none of them ever actually resorted to physical violence, so I wrote to thank Bill for his interest and promised to keep him in mind should an opportunity arise in the future. (Admittedly I was thinking more about my unfinished patio out the back than working in the office, but I did not need to tell him that.)
That left three candidates. The first, and by far the strongest candidate on paper, was a Ms. Hunter - a highly experienced, but very intimidating, middle-aged woman who had worked as a PA to some of the top leaders in the local business community. However, I sensed we had radically different ideas about what was meant by a 'Personal Assistant'. My view is that a Personal Assistant is someone who 'assists' - the clue, if you think about it, is in the title. Ms. Hunter, on the other hand, seemed to think that I would be the one doing the assisting while she ran the entire show. I had several years of being bossed around by a woman when I was married, so I did not fancy the idea of paying someone for more of the same.
The second candidate, Gloria, was in her mid-20s and looked and dressed like a film star or fashion model. She wore a bit too much makeup for my taste, but there was no denying that she was an exceptional piece of eye candy. I wished during her interview that she had not been displaying quite so much cleavage, because my eyes were repeatedly drawn to her breasts in a way that professional standards dictate they should not have been. In fact, I would be hard-pressed to say what colour her eyes were. Or her hair for that matter. Had I had employed her I have no doubt I would have been the envy of all my male clients (not to mention, I suspect, a few female ones as well), but it became obvious in the course of the interview that her career aspirations were much higher than anything I could offer and that she would therefore likely move on to bigger and better things within a few months. The prospect of having to go through the whole recruitment process again counted against her.
The final candidate was a young lass called Nicola, whom I had short-listed mainly to make up the numbers. Like Bill she had no prior work experience as a PA and, like Bill, she was remarkably upfront about it. Since leaving school two years previously she had worked in a number of dead-end jobs, but, unlike Bill, she had at least done a secretarial course at night-school and therefore had some notion of what the job entailed. She admitted that she had not been the best student in her class, but there was something refreshingly honest about her that persuaded me to take a chance. Besides I realised that I could get her for half the wages that Gloria or Ms. Hunter would have expected, so I offered her the job on a probationary basis, with the promise that if I decided to keep her I would give her a pay rise.
Dear Diary,
I am over the moon. I have got a real job at last. I still cannot believe it. I do not know how many other applicants there were, but I was sure the girl who went in before me was bound to get the job. She was a bit snooty but was drop-dead gorgeous - the sort that men seem to go for - and she had a few years experience as a secretary as well. And then, when she went in for her interview, the woman who had been in before her came out looking really pleased with herself. When she told me all the companies she had worked for, I was convinced I stood absolutely no chance. I almost decided to skip the interview and just go home, but I decided I might as well go through with it, if only for the experience. I guess thinking I stood no chance may have helped as it meant I was not nearly as nervous as I normally am, even when it seemed the interview was not going well. I decided just to tell things as they were and so I admitted that I had never worked as a PA. I was absolutely gob-smacked when he told me he was going to let me start on a trial basis. I will be earning almost twice as much as I did in Burger Land and will have nice regular 9 to 5 hours, 5 days a week job. He said that if I did well I might even get a pay rise.
Mom has told me that it is a fantastic opportunity and has warned me not to mess it up. Dad agrees. He says to think of it as a stepping stone. Once you have a job, he says, it is much easier to get another one, so he told me to stick with it no matter what. The most important thing, he says, is to keep the job you already have until something better comes along. However, I think I am going to like this one.
The new girl has settled in better than expected. Nicola (or Knickers as I now call her just to wind her up) is not the fastest typist in the world - I suspect that even I could manage more words per minute - but she is very conscientious and double-checks everything she does. I still cast an eye over her work, but it is rare, if ever, that I find a mistake. She is a very willing learner, and is quickly picking up all the other aspects of the job. She has a particularly pleasant manner when answering the phone - I suspect some clients now phone more often than they really need to just to speak to her. I am not sure I would trust her to organise my appointments diary just yet, but that time cannot be far off.
Although I did not notice it at the interview, probably because Gloria's more obvious charms were still fresh in my mind, she is actually very pretty in a 'girl next door' sort of way: big blue eyes, a pert little nose and a highly infectious smile. She seems to be perpetually good humoured and lights up the office like a little ray of sunshine as soon as she comes in. Although she has only been here two weeks, it is already difficult to imagine not having her around.
If she has a fault, it is her timekeeping. She is often a few minutes late in the morning. It is no big deal, but I pretended to be annoyed just for the fun of it and threatened to smack her bottom if she was late again. I know I should not have said that, but it was only intended as a joke. However, she is so young and innocent, I think she actually thought I meant it. Mind, I must admit, the idea is more than a little tempting. Like many petite girls she has a cute little bubble butt that just cries out for a meaty slap, but unfortunately that sort of thing is not allowed these days. However, sometimes when things are quiet, I take out a few random files and then call her into the office and ask her to file them again, just so that I can watch her walk around. I think I may be developing an unhealthy fixation, given her tender age, but the way her bum-cheeks wiggle as she walks around is enough to set any man's pulse racing.
Dear Diary,
The new job going well. I think Mr. Timmons likes me. At first he only let me do the typing and answer the phone, but now he lets me do the filing in his office. I am not sure he completely trusts me because several times I have caught him watching me really closely when he thought I wasn't looking. The first time he was staring so intently I thought I must have left my dress tucked in my knickers or something when I went to the toilet, but now I realise he is just watching to make sure that I am putting the files away in the right place. I guess it is his way of checking up on me without making me feel as if I am under scrutiny. He is really thoughtful like that.
I like Mr. Timmons. He is a good boss. And for an old guy - he must be well into his thirties - he is quite good looking. He dresses well, usually in a suit and tie. I don't know what sort of aftershave he uses, but he always smells really nice. In fact, I think I could fancy him if he wasn't so old. He said he was married once, but is divorced now. However, he probably has lots of lady friends his own age, so I doubt he would be interested in someone like me.
He is good company and always has something funny to say. Nevertheless, he can be quite strict when he needs to be. He always corrects me when I do something wrong, but always in a nice way. I know he only does it to help me become better at my job. He usually explains what I need to do to improve, rather than just give out to me, although I feel terrible when he has to correct me because I always feel that I have let him down.
I have been late a few times although it is not really my fault. The bus I catch should get me into the office with about ten minutes to spare, but some mornings it can be up to twenty minutes late (and usually arrives with another one just to keep it company). Mr. Timmons said that if I was late again he would put me over his knee and spank me. I did not think bosses were allowed to do that, but I guess they can do anything they want. I have never been spanked and, although I have sometimes wondered what it would be like, I do not really want to find out.
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.