The Conservative Navy Suit
by Sharon H. Greathouse
Banks may be the last of the businesses that still expect dark suits and ties for their men and the prerequisite navy or black suit and high necked blouse for the women. Men wear polished wing tips and the women wear a neat small heel. The dress code was the first really noticeable thing when I walk into my bank; the second was the hushed tones, everyone spoke in as if they might wake the money lying comfortably in the safe.
The receptionist, Susan Wilson on her nameplate, is an older woman with perfectly coifed blond hair, about shoulder length. She is wearing a navy suit today; her white lace blouse is high necked and I see the lace of the blouse at her hands looking as if she had just shot her cuffs. Her lipstick is a light pink, her makeup is perfect, and she wears glasses with a simple silver wire frame. On the lapel of her jacket is small pin in the shape of a rose with gold for the stem and bright red for the rose. This is the only color I see when I go to the desk and with the perfect genteel smile she asks if she can help me.
I stand a little to the side while she calls Mr. Jenkins, the Bank Manager, to see if he is ready for our appointment. As she rises to take me to see Mr. Jenkins I see just a quick flash of bright red lace inside the hem of her skirt and I take a double look and wonder if all of her undergarments are red lace.
During my appointment with Mr. Jenkins, I can see Susan out of the corner of my eye and notice that she is watching the hands of the big wall clock climb closer and closer to 5:00. The minute 5:00 comes she shuts down her computer and bends down to get purse and change from her business heels. As she rises she removes her jacket and tosses it over her shoulder while unbuttoning the top three buttons of her blouse. She comes from behind her desk and I see her red leather bag and the four inch heel red sandals she has changed into. She tosses her head and her hair loosens and her smile is wide as she walks out the door and climbs in the Porsche beside the long haired driver with the red beard, sunglasses and a sexy smile. And I think, "Way to go, Susan!" Her Birthdays may say she’s closing in on 60, but I see that 25 year old fun-loving girl heading down the road to what? Home, a bar, a motel?
While I cook dinner and clean up then get the kids ready for bed, I am imagining what she is doing and I’m thinking seriously I need some red lace underwear and red heels.
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Sharon H. Greathouse is retired and living with her husband in a Kansas City suburb. She recently published her first cookbook, 'A Cook's Journey - Recipes and Remembrances' and is working on the next one. She writes short and flash fiction for fun. Contact Sharon.
