Eleanor was nervous. You would think after so many job interviews in the past few months she would have gotten over the jitters. But there were two key differences between this interview and the last twenty eight.
First, she knew very little about the company she was interviewing for. She didn't even know what BTI stood for. Her husband had found the position advertised online and printed it out for her, but he hadn't been able to remember where on the web he had stumbled upon it. She couldn't find any mention of the company online herself, but she was so sick of being unemployed, she went ahead and faxed in her resume. It couldn't hurt.
And they had been impressed with her resume. They had called her and been impressed with her over the phone. But every company to which she had applied was impressed with her resume and over the phone.
And thus the second thing that was different about this interview. Hidden under her clothing, taped against her 280 pound frame, was a tape recorder.
Maybe they would give her a chance even after they saw how fat she was. She had held a job before and done very well at it. Had her boss not embezzled so much of the profits, she would be in upper management by now.
But if the past was at all predictive, they would take one look at her 'morbidly obese' body and that would be the end of it. Blatant lookism: the last unapologetic prejudice. With the recorder, however, it would be far from the end. It would be the beginning of a discrimination law suit. If Eleanor didn't leave BTI with a job she would at least be leaving with an admission that they hadn't considered her because she was fat.
She set her shoulders and marched out of the elevator on the 32nd floor. Then she froze. The door did not read "BTI". It read "BimboTech Inc."
She had heard of BimboTech. She didn't know what they did, but they plastered vulgar, misogynistic fliers all over the place. Had her husband known where he was sending her? She turned around and started back toward the elevator.
But then she stopped. No, this was perfect! This was the perfect target for her lawsuit! It was BimboTech, for hell sake! Of course they were going to hire slim, sexy young women without any regard to actual skills or talent! It would be the easiest thing to prove in the world! And they would no doubt be obnoxious about their rejection of her. They would say on tape that her weight was the reason they wouldn't consider hiring her!
Eleanor turned back to the entrance to BimboTech Inc. She was going to go through with this! And God help them once she returned with her lawyer!
Eleanor entered the most elegant office she had ever been in and was welcomed warmly by its occupant. The half-dressed, addle-headed receptionist had told her that Mr. Fink was the head of the whole company and had insisted on doing the interview himself when he saw her resume. The way the impeccably-dressed man kept smiling at her was really unnerving her. All her senses were tuned for some hint of mockery or disdain, but they were coming up empty. He was more respectful than any interviewer she had met with in person in her several months of unemployment.
But with that... that bimbo working reception, with the sexist advertising, surely he wasn't considering hiring a woman like herself. It was all an act. It must be. She would push through with this interview in top form and then make him admit that he didn't want to hire her because of her looks. And then she would sue his ass. She was resolved to that.
Mr. Fink offered her a plush, high-backed chair with upholstered arm rests that sat in front of his desk. Surprisingly, the chair was quite comfortable, wide enough to accommodate her wide back end. She almost blushed at the memory of a previous interview in which the tiny chair had gotten up with her when she went to leave, but she steeled herself.
"Well now, Ms. Stevens, I have read your resume and your references and I must say I'm quite impressed. You've quite a number of skills and seem to have a very good head on your shoulders."
"Thank you," she replied, very pleased. She couldn't ask for more than for him to admit to that fact on tape.
"Still, I make an effort to only hire people in whom I see a certain potential, the raw material that can be molded into something truly extraordinary, that will allow the employee to be happy and fulfilled by her work while bringing everything she can to the company."
Eleanor forced herself to keep smiling and not tell him just what she thought about that load of bullshit.
"So, what I want to know is, what makes you think that you are BimboTech material?"
He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her expectantly.
Eleanor gave a little frown. She was actually perplexed. She didn't know whether or not to act insulted. She was insulted, but wasn't it a perfectly natural question? Or at least it would have been, with any normal company.
"Well, Mr. Fink, I don't necessarily know that I'd describe myself as 'BimboTech' material. I must confess I came to this interview not knowing much about your company. What I do know, however, is that I am an excellent employee. I work hard and I work smart. I've been an asset to every organization I've worked for and if you can give me work worthy of my talents, in a few months you won't know how you ever ran this company without me."
She stared back, defiant, confident. She knew it was true even if every prejudicial prick on the planet couldn't see past the cellulite in order to acknowledge it.
Mr. Fink reached up and stroked his chin, returning her gaze, his lips non- committal but his eyes smiling.
"You know, you just may be right. O.K., you're hired."
"I'm what?" she asked.
"Hired. I want you to work for me. That was the point of this interview, right?"
"I, well, just like that? I mean, I didn't expect... really?"
"Of course!" he said. "I can see you have potential! Somewhere in there is a BimboTech girl just waiting to get out!"
He grinned, a bit wolfishly this time, and Eleanor was almost sure he had just briefly ogled her tits.
"Now, wait a minute," Eleanor objected. "I'm still not sure what position it is I'm interviewing for."
"Oh, well, our girls assume a number of positions here," he said, eyes twinkling naughtily. "We'll have to start you out in a probationary position and then see just where you fit best. I don't doubt a woman with your ambition will be able to rise quickly, however. You seem like you'd do whatever it takes to get ahead."
"Yes, but what would I be doing?" Eleanor demanded.
This wasn't going at all the way she had planned.
"Eleanor... Can I call you Eleanor?... here at BimboTech, we're not about doing, we're about being!" he told her.
"But what does that mea... OW!"
There was a sharp pain in her ass. She jumped out of the chair. There was nothing there but the depression left by her buttcheeks.
"Eleanor, are you all right?" exclaimed Mr. Fink, rising from his chair and coming around to place a hand on her forearm.
"Something poked me!" she exclaimed. "Something... something from the... the chair."
She felt odd. There was a tingling sensation where she had been poked and it seemed to be spreading throughout her entire body.
"Oh my!" Mr. Fink was saying. "I am so sorry, Ellie. Can I call you Ellie? An upholstery tack must have come loose. I promise we'll make sure you have more gentle furniture in the future."
"Huh?" Eleanor asked. Her head felt funny. It was like thinking through thick, sweet syrup.
"Ellie, do you feel all right?" he asked.
"All right?" she repeated. She felt odd but she felt good. Really, really good. She giggled.
"I feel funny," she confessed.
"Oh," said Mr. Fink. "Well, that would be the pharmaceuticals."
"The... huh?" Eleanor asked.
She was pretty sure that something was wrong with that, but it was so hard to think and everything seemed so nice and so soft. Mr. Fink was really cute too.
"You don't need to worry about that, Ellie," he assured her. "You don't need to worry about anything! You just got a job! It's perfectly natural for you to feel happy. Very, very happy. You are happy, aren't you Ellie?"
She giggled. She was happy. She had a job and she didn't have to worry about anything. Mr. Fink had told her so.
"Well, great!" he said. "Now, let's get you processed!"
He went to his desk and pushed a button.
"Jim, Eleanor Stevens is all ready for new employee orientation. Are you ready for her?"
"Sure," said the intercom. "Just how ready is she?"
"Well, I doubled the dose, given her size. It seems to be a little too much but she's coherent enough to answer questions."
"That's all I need," said the intercom. "Bring her down."
"All right then, Ellie!" he exclaimed. "Let's turn you into a BimboTech Girl!"
Eleanor giggled. This day wasn't turning out at all like she expected. But it sure was great!
Mr. Fink led her out of his office and down a hallway with brightly colored doors. She felt so light and fluffy, like she was a cloud floating along on a gentle breeze. She giggled. They went through a brown door.
"Hey, Jim," Mr. Fink said to the man who stood beside the dentist chair in the center of the room. "This is Ellie. She's the newest member of the team. I'm thinking of starting her out in promotions. Give her the standard employee orientation and then send her on to Lorenz for her benefits package."
"God, couldn't you have sent her there first?"
"Aw, she's not that bad. Got great tits, you have to admit."
.... There is more of this story ...