Hi there, guys and dolls! Well, it may be workday Wednesday, but I’ll be the first to admit that there was not a dull moment at the office today (I know, I didn’t understand what to make of it myself…).

It was all about the cutthroat world of the typing pool. Pshaw, you say – the typing pool? Nothing’s duller than that, except maybe for the steno pool. Or accounts. Or acquisitions. Or, well, any pool or department. But you see, there was a promotion involved, and there is one thing you learn very quickly, is never to get in the way of a girl and her pay raise, or a crack at dating up the corporate ladder. That is a very dangerous move. Trust me.

Anyhoo, in came Trixie this morning, propped herself on her mid-level exec manager’s desk, popped off a glove and puffed up one of his cigarettes. See, she snared a live one last night, or as she relayed it, was completely swept off her feet by the rival company’s boss’ son proposing to her. (Honestly, I don’t know where ‘surprise’ comes into it – she was stalking him and entrapping him since November. Eh, who could blame her – he’s rich, cute, dumb and can take her places. All good, she just got to him first, that’s all.) Buh-bye, she has a wedding to plan, no time to work now, especially for a rival company (has anyone figured out what my employer does – if someone does, please tell me, I still just show up and do, well, something and leave…).

Now this leaves a mass vacancy in our company hierarchy. Trixie was the latest in the line of many to head up the typing pool, and the lead position is a coveted one. The lead girl gets to virtually do nothing all day, except for hand off letters and such to type. Why, she can’t be expected to plunk down on any of the keys, she’s far too busy, er, delegating to do that (I also find that waiting for my nail polish to dry is also known as ‘delegating’ in certain office dialects).

And wouldn’t you know that Mindy and Cindy were both vying and up for the challenge. Our two main contenders were so fast and furious, the rest just stayed out of the way. But how would the new girl be determined? They were both just as fast and (in)accurate as each other, so no clear winner there – such excitement, such pressure, such….(I dunno, I left for lunch by time the hair pulling and name calling were stopped). By the time I came back, Mindy had fashioned make-shift protective head gear from a diving helmet she dug up in some exec’s closet (you find the darnedest things in those), which made sense when I caught a glimpse at Cindy donning a determined grimace and boxing gloves (same exec? you never know around here).

Mighty fierce, I’d say. But then, just as about time the fists were going to fly, in comes Lindy, the latest temp with a typing speed that no one has seen the likes of since the summer of ’51 (we all speak in reverent tones of that mystery woman who blasted through this office so briefly that no one remembers her name – I believe she married a senator or something….).

So welcome, Lindy. May you keep Mindy and Cindy in line, at least until your nail polish dries….

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more posts. And don’t forget to give my Poppy Cove Mysteries a try if you haven’t already.

Toodles, Barbara Jean