The paperwork had a letterhead reading DOGOS, and beneath a vague description of a customer service job, with a list of policies and guidelines. In addition to the usual rigamarole about not having cel phones out in the call center, attendance and whatnot, I started noticing some disturbing items, such as `dress uniform' "What's all this?" A new company has offered us a fair sum of money to transfer all of you to anew department We believe you have the skills, the telephone presence, and the look the new company is looking for." Look?" I stammered."Professional but ordinary. Respectable. We showed the company your pictures and they like you statistics. This looks like it's going to be a very rewarding job."Yasmine angrily slapped her packet down on the table. "Where are we relocating? I have kids!"I stared, wondering what her kids must think about `mommy' going outside dressed like that."Relax! We're not going to be doing any moving anytime soon."All of my coworkers started asking. They emerged some time later just as I was about to gybe to cross the shipping channel. Hazel was 'dressed' just like Emily. I couldn't help my erection as they crossed the cockpit to enter the saloon, or miss their giggles as they disappeared. I, er, 'regained my composure' shortly after that, but lost it again when they reappeared with mugs of coffee and sausage sandwiches."Let Hazel take the wheel for a bit, Dad, and eat your sandwich."Hazel, rather nervously, stood legs akimbo at the wheel, leaving me staring at her rear. A very nice rear, I had to admit. Emily coughed and I looked at her. She grinned, pointed at her eyes then at me and winked. I think it may have been possible to fry eggs on my face. It certainly felt hot enough.Emily ate her sandwich, but when I began to stand to take the wheel back, she gestured to me to stay where I was ... sternly. She took the wheel from Hazel, who sat next to me and asked,"John ... would you mind fetching my sandwich and coffee?"They were.
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