Veronica had first come to work in our office about a month ago fresh out of college. I met her during her orientation week where her training coordinator took her around to spend time meeting the rest of the staff and learning how the different departments work together. She was pleasant and easy going and quite attractive. About five foot six inches with light auburn hair and hazel eyes. She's about average weight that's well distributed in a curvy hour glass figure, though not skimpy on the waist line. She had "high rider" tits, grapefruit sized, round and pushed up by her bra. It seemed like she was even a bit flirty. I shrugged it off as new hire eagerness. She had studied business administration in college and was working in the comptroller's office. Soon she was settled in her office in the executive suites and I didn't see much of her.
One day, I find her having lunch by herself. I ask if she'd mind if I join her. She doesn't have a ring so I figure I'll take a chance and I ask if she'd like to go to see a movie with me at the Megaplex sometime.
"Well," she said, "I'd like to. But you have to ask my mother's permission first."
"What?" I asked incredulously. What is this the 19th century, I wonder?
"She's very old fashioned. I know it's unusual but that's the way it's always been done in her family and we can't change her. Beside, I dated a guy without telling her once and it turned out pretty bad. So now I listen to my mom."
"Really, I mean, OK I guess. But how? I mean I've never had to do this before."
"Don't worry. It's just like meeting the parents after dating for a while but first instead. She doesn't bite. You just go introduce yourself and ask for her permission to take me to a movie, that's all."
"And if she say yes you'll go a movie with me?"
"Oh, yes. I want to!"
"OK, where, when?"
She gives me her phone number and the address then says, "Now go there after work. I'll let her know you are coming. Oh, and it may take a while. She's going to want to chat and, you know, be, um, sociable."
"Alright. I'll call you after."
After work I drove to the address she had given me and parked the car. I was starting to have second thoughts as I approached the door. It was just all so strange. But Veronica is a bit of a hottie so I rang the bell. After an uncomfortable delay the door swings open, And I say, "Mrs. Haagland, I'm Roger and I'm here to ask permission to take your daughter to a movie tonight, if that would be OK with you."
She takes the half smoked cigarette out of her mouth and says, "Oh, yea, she said you'd be calling. Come on in."
Her hair is done up in curlers. She's wearing some kind of house coat, knee length, silky but multi-layered for warmth, blue with white faux fur trim around the collar and on each side of the button up front. There are two large coffee stains on the front. She has on fuzzy slippers and black nylon stockings. Her eyes have severe crows feet. The rough skin on her wrinkled face resembles dried and cracked leather. Her breath smells of tobacco and stale beer. Her teeth, those she still has, are stained a dark yellow. There's a skin tag, or something, on the side of her nose.
"Let's go into the parlor where we can talk properly." She has a bit of a limp as she leads the way. I'm quite shocked by the way she looks. I think that a mom who insists on suitors asking permission should at least get dressed for the occasion.
She sits at the end of the sofa in the parlor and motions me to sit in the overstuffed chair opposite. She snuffs her cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table then picks up the TV remote and turns it off. She says, "There's beer or what ever else you want over at the bar, if you'd like." She picks up the beer can on the table and chugs the last few swallows.
"Ah, no thanks. I have to drive home so I'll pass."
"Suit yourself," she says. "So tell me, Richard, is your family from around here?" As she talks she picks up a glass pipe and a lighter off the table.
I say, "It's Roger, not Richard." Then I continue, "No, my family lives in Kansas. I moved here five years ago when I started working at the aircraft plant." She lights the glass pipe, takes a toke, and offers it to me. I wave it off. "Not that I don't sometimes, Mrs. Haagland, but I have to drive."
"I don't drive that much myself so I never worry about that," she says. "You know, I think we get much better weed now that they made it legal. By the way, call me Lillie. I like that so much better than Mrs. Haagland. That makes me sound ugly."
"Ok, Lillie," I say.
"What do you do at the factory?" She stands up to reach her stash and refill her pipe bowl.
"I'm a parts designer. I take the idea for a part and turn it into a real thing we can use."
She sits down again. This time her house coat hem is pulled up above her knees as she sits. "That sounds very interesting."
