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Literature Text
The time, was Vorld Var II...
...
My job sucked. All the other women had the important job of receiving radio calls while I was stuck as a janitor. Night after night I had to mop the floors, dust the shelves, and pick up stray papers that shouldn't be left out. I always wanted to work at a place such as this in order to make my self-esteem go up. To feel less about sexist people who discriminated me for trying to be employed at all. It was hard to ignore them, after all, cleaning is what women were "meant to do." And here I am, doing exactly what I've always done since childhood.
One of the radios began to crackle beside me, then a voice came out. "Hello? Anybody there?"
I looked around at my surroundings, only to see that I was the only one here except for my boss. He was in his office.
"Helloooooooooooo?"
Hesitantly I sat down at the desk and picked up the radio, "Hello?"
"Well heeeeey! I've got a very important question that I just can't figure out! Mind helping me?"
"Sure."
"Awesome! Alright, there's this chick who works for me and I have the hots for her. But she only sees me as her boss, not as the cool guy I am. What am I supposed to do about it?"
This voice…I recognized it easily. Turning in my chair, I could see my boss, Mr. Jones, with a radio. He was leaning back in his chair with hit boots resting on one corner of his cluttered desk as if the topic he was discussing was something to be leisure about. I felt really nervous now that he could realize who he was talking to any minute. To be fired now would shame my mother, the one person who supported me in being a part of the women's work force. But what could I do? Mr. Jones was discussing something really personal with me of all people!
Nervous, I began tapping my foot and bit my lip. What did I know about relationships? Nothing! I've been single all my life! "Well what is she like?"
I watched Mr. Jones smile and get a day-dreamer's look in his blue eyes. "She's shy, a bit clumsy, cute when flustered, always ready to work…" He smoothed back his blonde hair, "Talks to herself to feel better-"
"Okay, I get it. Have you ever talked with her before?"
"Only when I employed her, and complimented her work whenever I pass her by."
"Does she say anything in return?"
"She smiles at me, but never speaks."
Who the hell would ignore Mr. Jones? He's the leader of America for crying out loud! Compared to President Truman, my boss is way more important. I let out a sigh; this girl has some issues when it comes to being complimented by Mr. Jones. He's quite the man to look at…So patriotic, calls himself a "hero," and remains strong even when times are tough. To think this man isn't good enough would be the most stupid thing one could think about!
"Do you think I should leave her a note?"
"No. I suggest being upfront about your feelings so she doesn't think you're bluffing. Be as sincere as possible."
Mr. Jones sat up in his chair, "Should I bring her flowers? Many men do that-"
"Hold it! Don't you want to be different than other men? Stand out? You should make the moment you admit your feelings be a day you will never forget."
"You're so smart! Oh man, I can't wait to put a smile on her face! Thank you, miss!"
"You're welcome."
When I saw Mr. Jones set the radio down and prepare to leave his office, I returned to my mop and water bucket. Calmly I swished the water on the tile floor without looking up to see my boss take his bomber jacket off the coat rack. My cheeks were a bit pink from talking about the subject of "the first move" towards a woman with him. Hopefully my few, basic tips would actually work out!
"Good night, ___! The hero is off to bed!"
I looked up, "Good night, Mr. Jones!"
He gave me an odd look—maybe he found out!—before leaving with a small smile upon his face.
The next day at the office was a bore once again. Irritably I wiped up a large coffee spill after someone broke the coffee machine. Then one man was complaining about how his office door wouldn't close correctly, so I had to fix that. A woman came up saying that the women's bathroom had a clogged toilet and must be unclogged immediately. Most of these people could accomplish the things they asked me by themselves! I truly wanted to punch their faces into their skulls! But of course, being the good janitor I am, I did as they asked.
Someone ran into the building saying that a tank had stopped right outside. That announcement made everybody want to go see what was going on, so they rushed right out. The mess left behind looked as if a whirlwind had dropped by too. With a sigh, I got on my hands and knees to pick up broken glass that came from a mug that tipped over. I grumbled to myself as I continued my work, wishing that damn tank never came. Unless there was victory in Europe and someone came to announce it, I wish the tank would explode.
A soldier entered the building and stopped to hold out his gloved hand to me. "___, I wasn't too happy about you not coming out to see my big entrance. Would you mind joining me on my big exit?"
"Mr. Jones, there's work to be done-"
But of course, my say in things didn't matter. The hero always gets the lady. He lifted me off my feet, threw me over one shoulder, and picked up the pole he had set aside. Old Glory waved off that pole as he walked outside as my whole face burned with embarrassment. Many eyes watched us as he headed towards the tank, his laughter ringing out to grab more attention.
"Am I standing out from the crowd or what?"
I smiled, "You truly are, Mr. Jones."
...
My job sucked. All the other women had the important job of receiving radio calls while I was stuck as a janitor. Night after night I had to mop the floors, dust the shelves, and pick up stray papers that shouldn't be left out. I always wanted to work at a place such as this in order to make my self-esteem go up. To feel less about sexist people who discriminated me for trying to be employed at all. It was hard to ignore them, after all, cleaning is what women were "meant to do." And here I am, doing exactly what I've always done since childhood.
One of the radios began to crackle beside me, then a voice came out. "Hello? Anybody there?"
I looked around at my surroundings, only to see that I was the only one here except for my boss. He was in his office.
"Helloooooooooooo?"
Hesitantly I sat down at the desk and picked up the radio, "Hello?"
"Well heeeeey! I've got a very important question that I just can't figure out! Mind helping me?"
"Sure."
"Awesome! Alright, there's this chick who works for me and I have the hots for her. But she only sees me as her boss, not as the cool guy I am. What am I supposed to do about it?"
This voice…I recognized it easily. Turning in my chair, I could see my boss, Mr. Jones, with a radio. He was leaning back in his chair with hit boots resting on one corner of his cluttered desk as if the topic he was discussing was something to be leisure about. I felt really nervous now that he could realize who he was talking to any minute. To be fired now would shame my mother, the one person who supported me in being a part of the women's work force. But what could I do? Mr. Jones was discussing something really personal with me of all people!
Nervous, I began tapping my foot and bit my lip. What did I know about relationships? Nothing! I've been single all my life! "Well what is she like?"
I watched Mr. Jones smile and get a day-dreamer's look in his blue eyes. "She's shy, a bit clumsy, cute when flustered, always ready to work…" He smoothed back his blonde hair, "Talks to herself to feel better-"
"Okay, I get it. Have you ever talked with her before?"
"Only when I employed her, and complimented her work whenever I pass her by."
"Does she say anything in return?"
"She smiles at me, but never speaks."
Who the hell would ignore Mr. Jones? He's the leader of America for crying out loud! Compared to President Truman, my boss is way more important. I let out a sigh; this girl has some issues when it comes to being complimented by Mr. Jones. He's quite the man to look at…So patriotic, calls himself a "hero," and remains strong even when times are tough. To think this man isn't good enough would be the most stupid thing one could think about!
"Do you think I should leave her a note?"
"No. I suggest being upfront about your feelings so she doesn't think you're bluffing. Be as sincere as possible."
Mr. Jones sat up in his chair, "Should I bring her flowers? Many men do that-"
"Hold it! Don't you want to be different than other men? Stand out? You should make the moment you admit your feelings be a day you will never forget."
"You're so smart! Oh man, I can't wait to put a smile on her face! Thank you, miss!"
"You're welcome."
When I saw Mr. Jones set the radio down and prepare to leave his office, I returned to my mop and water bucket. Calmly I swished the water on the tile floor without looking up to see my boss take his bomber jacket off the coat rack. My cheeks were a bit pink from talking about the subject of "the first move" towards a woman with him. Hopefully my few, basic tips would actually work out!
"Good night, ___! The hero is off to bed!"
I looked up, "Good night, Mr. Jones!"
He gave me an odd look—maybe he found out!—before leaving with a small smile upon his face.
The next day at the office was a bore once again. Irritably I wiped up a large coffee spill after someone broke the coffee machine. Then one man was complaining about how his office door wouldn't close correctly, so I had to fix that. A woman came up saying that the women's bathroom had a clogged toilet and must be unclogged immediately. Most of these people could accomplish the things they asked me by themselves! I truly wanted to punch their faces into their skulls! But of course, being the good janitor I am, I did as they asked.
Someone ran into the building saying that a tank had stopped right outside. That announcement made everybody want to go see what was going on, so they rushed right out. The mess left behind looked as if a whirlwind had dropped by too. With a sigh, I got on my hands and knees to pick up broken glass that came from a mug that tipped over. I grumbled to myself as I continued my work, wishing that damn tank never came. Unless there was victory in Europe and someone came to announce it, I wish the tank would explode.
A soldier entered the building and stopped to hold out his gloved hand to me. "___, I wasn't too happy about you not coming out to see my big entrance. Would you mind joining me on my big exit?"
"Mr. Jones, there's work to be done-"
But of course, my say in things didn't matter. The hero always gets the lady. He lifted me off my feet, threw me over one shoulder, and picked up the pole he had set aside. Old Glory waved off that pole as he walked outside as my whole face burned with embarrassment. Many eyes watched us as he headed towards the tank, his laughter ringing out to grab more attention.
"Am I standing out from the crowd or what?"
I smiled, "You truly are, Mr. Jones."
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o my god this is just beautiful!!!!! it feels like it could actually happen too!!! you nailed it!!!! awesome job!!!! *leans over to whisper very quietly* awesomer than Prussia *gives 2 thumbs up*