So there I was sitting in my office, innocently enough pretending to work whilst surfing the net for any information about football I could find. I spend a lot of my days doing this. Only problem is that customers have a rude habit of interupting my internet play with wanting service.

She walked into my office every part the bogan. Name was Beverlee Jayde. I will leave out the surname but the first two was a hint of what was to come. She was an amply proptortioned lass. Not to say she was morbidly obese, but she was certainly fat... ish.

She had on clothes that didnt fit properly, shirt too short and jeans that didnt cover nearly enough. The Muffin Top was exploding out of the jeans and teh shirt wasnt anywhere near long enough to cover it. I would have been able to see her belly button if it wasnt cleverly concealed in a fat fold. The short also achieved the rare deat of being too low cut, perhaps in the hope that the cleavage would distract you from the rest of the package.

She had been approved for a credit card. As she sat down I played nice. "Day off work I asked",
"no, why do you ask?".
"You seem to be dressed pretty casually, what do you do?"
"I do phone sales" she explained.
"Do you enjoy it"
"yeah, me and me boyfriend both work there so is cool."

As we went through the application as quickly as I could because her scent was starting to infiltrate my sensitive nostrils I got to identifying her and getting all her personal details.

"your email address please?"
"bouncyblonde88@hotmail.com"

She didnt even laugh as she said it. No sense of irony here. I looked at her and said "but you have brown hair?"

She seemed startled by this. As if I was the first person to notice or question it.

"oh yeah, I died it brown so people at work would take me seriously. People dont think you are no good if you are blonde"

"um... alrighty then". Obviously dressing like a hooker isnt anywhere near as important as your hair colour. I like people. they make me smile

Keep Smiling

Jason

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