My mother's advice fresh in my mind, I resolved to dress to impress, picking a fairly racy outfit. I stopped short of outright club wear, not wanting to go overboard, but the top I selected was reasonably low cut, and the trousers, playfully tight.I was just putting on some light make-up when Nat wandered back into the room, "Wow!" she said. "You look amazing." Thanks," I blushed a little at her praise.She picked out her own outfit while I was working out what to do with my hair. I sat there fiddling about for quite a while until Nat held out her hand and said, "Here." She handed me a silver scrunchy. "It goes with your eyes."I pulled my hair into a pony tail that kept it from getting in the way too much. Suitably attired I sat reading while Nat got herself ready. She went along similar lines as I had, but seemed to make a concerted effort to tone her charms down a little. She looked less like the drop dead gorgeous girl, more like the attractive girl next door. I guessed she was. Since it opened onto the side-alley we shared with the paint factory next door we tended to keep it closed whatever the weather. My shirt stuck to me in damp patches all across my chest and back. I was trying very hard not to notice that Vanessa – my fellow inmate that night – was having the same problem. She had significantly more chest than I did. My job title, stripped of its HR bullshit, was “anonymous desk-chimp”. I wrote wordy, meaningless reports which more senior chimps would wave around in meetings without ever actually reading. A small group of even more senior chimps would then nod wisely to one another and select the report being waved by the lesser chimp who had the most expensive-looking tie. This lucky chimp would be the envy of all the other chimps, and would probably celebrate his hard-won bonus by buying an even more expensive tie, before losing his powder-encrusted company credit card down a lap-dancer's g-string. And so the wheels of the world of business.
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