Be Professional

My husband forced me to interview his new secretary. Because I can type? I was furiously opposed. Be professional he said, which is not in my vocabulary. So here she was, sitting across from me. I leaned back in my husband’s oversized office chair. BAM! My legs were in the air, and my dress was around my waist. Panties clearly showing. I crawled off of the danged chair. Felt my hot face. Looked at the shocked applicant. “You are hired,” I said. No idea that she could only type seven words a minute. Did not care. Neither of us laughed. Until we began working together. And got to know each other. Then we could not stop laughing.