SWEET SWEAT
Mark Blickley
A line of office cubicles greeted Alice as her footsteps scraped across the floor on her way to the water cooler. She gulped down three shots of expensive corporate refreshment before returning to her desk.
She positioned herself in front of her computer and was about to snap on the machine when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the monitor. And even Alice had to admit it was a rather lovely face. Porcelain complexion that appeared even whiter contrasted to her jet black hair and luxurious brows and lashes. In fact, her father called her Snow White when she was a little girl. And to this day Alice felt a real affinity with that particular Disney character.
“What are you doing here, Alice Hilliard?” she asked her reflection. It was a silly question. Alice knew it was a silly question. She was at Bair International because she had beaten out forty-six other candidates for the entry level position with the powerful multi-national firm.
Alice was quite proud of the accomplishment. After all, she had gotten her business degree from a tiny college in Iowa whereas the majority of her competition had received their degrees from Ivy League schools and fancy universities. Alice sweated four years of full time jobs, from waitressing to
supermarket clerk, in order to get that degree.
Going to school full time and working full time did take its toll emotionally and physically, but Alice was determined to wipe the dust of Iowa off her shoes forever. The near
nervous collapse she experienced days before the Dean handed over her degree was well worth it. The piece of paper she focused on during graduation exercises wasn’t the diploma, but a one-way ticket to Chicago in her back pocket.
So now here she was, eighteen months later, twenty-four years old and no where to go but up -- up the corporate ladder.
“Ladders are for firemen,” she whispered to her reflection. The thought of a husky, sweat soaked firemen carrying her down - not up - a ladder gave her a slight shiver and she smiled. She’d give anything to be able to meet a man as real and as sexy as a fireman.
Boy, when she first hit Chicago she imagined the office buildings were filled with dynamic young men with sculptured bodies and prematurely graying temples, barking out commands while rallying the troops on their way to the next hostile takeover.
No such luck.
Most of the men she worked with reminded Alice of her favorite fruit -- pears. They were pear shaped. And nasty. If they were good natured at least, but unfortunately most
weren’t. And to make matters worse, the few decent looking guys were usually married and on the make towards the new hired help.
“Hi, Alice. You need help turning that thing on?” asked Tim Duffens, pointing to her computer. He had wheeled his chair over from his adjoining cubicle and stuck his head over
the partition.
“No thanks, Mr. Duffens. I know how to press a button.”
“So do I, Miss Hilliard. If you need anything else turned on,” leered Mr. Duffens, “ please let me know. I’m a great button presser.”
Alice sighed. “I wonder if your wife would agree with you?”
Tim Duffens smirked and back pedaled to his desk. Alice took a deep breath. She was suddenly very upset with herself. Tim Duffens! A real creep! But he was one of those few attractive males at B.I. And male he was. Alice resented having to remind herself of men’s unavailability at times like this.
“Let’s face it, Alice Hilliard,” she thought to herself. “Mother Nature never intended people to be single so long.”
But Alice was never good at compromise. She was determined not to waste her finest feelings on some other woman’s man. Alice lived by a code of ethics which prohibited her from treating another woman as she would hate to be treated.
In order to ward off the advances of stray and straying husbands, Alice made it a point to study the desks of all the men she met during her first few days at B.I. She committed to memory all the photos of wives and children, and whenever she felt vulnerable or was under siege, Alice would flash back to the appropriate photo and focus on the very faces of those she would be hurting. This technique was a sure fire means of quelling any fleeting desire she might feel.
Alice clicked on the computer, and watched her reflection disappear underneath columns and columns of figures.
As soon as five o’clock rolled around Alice tidied up her desk, grabbed her gym bag, and quickly walked over to the small health salon two blocks from her office.
She loved the salon. It was in need of a good coat of paint and modern equipment, but it had something no other health club in Chicago offered. Marna. Marna Benson. The best exercise teacher in the state of Illinois.
When the stress of moving to a big city and the boredom of her new job threatened to overpower Alice, she enrolled in the first health club she saw one day after leaving work. Alice had never taken an exercise class before. At twenty-four her youth still held her in check despite her food binges and generally poor nutrition. Alice didn’t need to sculpture her body; she needed to work off aggression and depression.
Marna Benson welcomed her new pupil as if she were a long lost cousin. Eight months later the affection the two women had for each other was steadily increasing. Under Marna’s instruction Alice became the best and most dedicated student in class.
“Hi, Alice,” said Marna as Alice changed into her leotards inside the cramped dressing room. “Looks like you had a bad day at the office.”
“Tell me when I look like I’ve had a good one and I’ll buy you dinner.”
“You need a fun, fascinating date, Alice.”
Alice nodded.
“Aren’t there any hunks in your office building?” asked Marna.
Alice shook her head.
“Gee, Alice, if I had your looks I’d expect to have guys running after me.”
Alice swept her hair into a headband. “Well, I don’t know about running after me, but I did have a gentleman wheeling after me today!!
Marna looked at Alice and shrugged. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’m going to understand what you’re talking about then we’ll both be in big trouble!! The two women giggled and headed to the mats for an energetic workout session.
When the class ended, in walked Fred Pinsinski, the bald yet hairy salon owner. The Pinsinski Health Salon was for women only. Fred was the only male allowed on to the premises during work hours and he seemed to relish the privilege.
After eyeing all the sweaty women in their leotards, Fred Pinsinski signaled to Marna. Alice saw Marna frown as she walked over to her boss.
While Alice and her classmates changed back into their civilian clothes they heard their teacher and her boss shouting at each other. When Alice exited the dressing room she watched a tearful Marna scream an obscenity at Fred and then run out the door.
Alice looked over at Fred. He grinned and spun his finger around his temple, indicating that Marna was crazy.
Alice grimaced at the salon owner and ran down two flights of stairs. Two blocks later she caught up with her sobbing exercise teacher.
Alice handed her a tissue. “Are you alright, Marna? What happened?”
Marna dabbed at her eyes. “I was fired.”
“You? Fired? I don’t believe it! That fool couldn’t get an instructor half as good as you!ll
Marna nodded. “I know. But I’m sure he can find another teacher who’ll let him work up a personal sweat with her.”
“You mean that creep wanted you to go to bed with him?” asked Alice.
Bed? Who said anything about a bed?” replied Marna.
“That pig has been trying to nail me to the mats since the day I started there. He said he’s sick of me ignoring his needs. I told him what he needs is to lose weight and buy a toupee.”
“So why have you stayed?”
“Money.”
“Come on, Marna. How much could that guy have been paying you?”
“You don’t understand, Alice. He paid pretty decent. But more importantly he paid me off the books. I made a good living, doll. And now I can’t even collect unemployment. I don’t know what to do.”
Tears began spilling down Marna’s face. “I don’t have any savings and teaching jobs that pay as well as this one are real hard to find. What am I going to do?”
That night Alice tossed in bed trying to figure out a way to help her friend. Then the idea hit her. It was so smooth and brilliant she sat up in bed and shrieked. The answer to Marna’s dilemma could also be the answer to Alice’s dilemma.
Alice lunged for the phone and quickly dialed Marna’s number. “Hello, Marna? It’s Alice. I got it, Marna! I got it!”
“I don’t know what you got,” Marna sleepily whispered into the receiver. “But it can’t be a clock. It’s four-thirty in the morning.”
“Forget about clocks, Marna. When you’re working for yourself time doesn’t matter.”
“Working for yourself? What are you talking about, Alice?”
“You and I are going into business together!”
Alice heard the phone on the other end fall to the floor with a crash. She laughed, took a deep breath and exhaled to calm herself down. When Marna recovered the phone Alice filled her in on the details.
For the first time in months Alice woke up and dressed for work with a smile on her face. She carefully applied her makeup. Although bright red lipstick was her favorite she decided to go for the understated look. She pursed her lips and with deft strokes applied pale pink.
Alice grabbed a tissue and blotted her lips, something she had never done before. She had watched her mother do this hundreds of times and thought it was so old fashioned. But today she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. She was on a mission, a secret mission. And she could use all the help she could get.
Once inside her office she was horrified to discover that her attempt to downplay her looks only caused increased attention. It seemed everyone in the office, from the secretaries to the executives, noticed the change in her appearance and commented on it.
So much for establishing a trademark, sighed Alice. The next morning she would pull out her tube of red lipstick.
In between printing out spreadsheets and writing collection letters, Alice would sneak over to the filing cabinets and pretend to look up delinquent accounts. What she was really doing was collecting the names and numbers of the wives of company executives and high powered female entrepreneurs. Alice had promised Marna that she would use client lists and personnel files to target potential customers for their new business.
Their new business, Alice decided, was to teach wealthy women private exercise classes right in their own homes. Alice reasoned that they could make more by offering individual instruction than by opening a gym. There would be no overhead, like rent and utilities.
The company’s name, MALICE, was a play on the two instructors’ name. The business cards Alice had printed up stated MALICE -- We Hate Fat! Exercise to a Sexier Size in the Comfort of Your Own Home.
For three weeks Alice was able to ferry out of the office the names and numbers of some of the Chicago area’s most powerful and influential women. Only once did she come close to getting caught. The person who almost caught her was no other than Tim Duffens.
While Alice was bent over a file cabinet, scribbling information into her notebook, Tim Duffens crept up behind her. When he tapped Alice on the small of her back she shot up like a push button toy. As Alice turned to confront the intruder her faced flushed red from fear and embarrassment.
Tim Duffens took her blush to be a personal response to his sexiness. “My God, Alice,ll he said. “You’re as red as a tomato. A lush, sun ripen tomato.
Alice forced a smile. “You startled me, Mr. Duffens.”
“Tim. The name’s Tim. I had no idea my presence excited you so much.”
“I’m just ticklish, Mr. Duffens,” responded Alice. She tried to block his view of the open file cabinet, but failed.
“What are doing in the personnel file? Only the office manager is supposed to have access to them.”
“I was looking something up, Mr. Duffens.”
“I told you my name is Tim. And what were you looking for?”
Alice’s voice stumbled. She tried to come up with a quick response. But before she could think of a reply Tim Duffens reached around her ankle and withdrew the file. Alice cringed. She was going to get fired for sure!
“It’s something personal, not business,” she said.
Tim Duffens smiled as he read the folder. “These personnel records cover the letter D. Were you looking up my personal history, Alice?”
Alice tilted her head, trying to size up what was going on inside this man’s brain. “Why would you think that, Mr. Duff - - Tim?”
“Come on, Alice. I’m not blind. I know you feel attracted to me. I also know you’re constantly making references about my wife. Well, you don’t have to sneak around for information. I’ll be quite blunt with you. Yes,
I’m married. Yes, I have three kids. And the answer to a
question you won’t find in this folder is, yes, I’m a man in need of a change.”
“A change of address, Tim?” Alice sighed with relief. Good old Tim Duffens just gave her an excuse to avoid capture. woman.”
“I could never go out with a man who was involved with another The following morning Alice Hilliard gave Bair International her two week quitting notice. When Tim Duffens heard the news he poked his face into Alice’s cubicle and shook his head sadly. He told Alice he understood how hard it would be for her to work so close to him, feeling the way she did. He wished her luck. She accepted his good wishes but refused his farewell kiss.
Marna howled with laughter when Alice told her the story of her last days at Bair International. Then they set out on a marathon telephone sales campaign. They were able to enlist nine powerful, prospective clients. MALICE offered a free introductory class.
