"How come you've stopped talking to me?"
It was bound to happen. The company is huge, but we were bound to cross paths sooner or later. It just happened to be in an elevator.
"I have no reason to speak with you. Bob and Kenny are gone, so there's no reason to be nice to you for their sake. You were never nice to me. In fact, you've always been despotic, snide and just plain rude. I have no reason to put up with that any longer."
Donna was the belle of Shipping, Receiving and Transportation. She was a cog in mid management. She was also the only woman in that department. Because of this, all of the guys, including my two friends, were mad about her.
Personally, I wasn't impressed. She was short, somewhat stocky and on the backside of forty. She wasn't ugly; she had one of those faces that could look pleasant or frowsy, depending on the light and the time of day. Her ass wasn't bad, considering her height and age, but her one outstanding feature were her breasts. They were large, round and firm. They were impressive, despite the frumpy sweatshirts that she wore to work. They were the kind of tits that women pay good money to have, but never achieve. It was her big tits and lack of competition which made her so popular with the apes in her department.
Perhaps I was the exception, but she treated me like shit whenever I was there to visit my friends. Out of respect for them, I'd always been more polite to her than she deserved. Since Bob and Kenny left the company, I'd been shining her on whenever I saw her. I knew she was surprised when I walked by her without a word on the few occasions I'd seen her. Her snide comments turned into quiet hellos when she realized that I was ignoring her. She was not only rude and abrasive, she just wasn't my type. I prefer tall, slim girls with small breasts. I just love small titties, the smaller the better!
"Excuse me, for not dropping everything to chit chat with you, but I'm under a lot of pressure. Unlike you, I have deadlines to meet."
"There's always time to be polite. Besides, I'm sick of hearing how "poor Donna is so stressed out because of the long hours she works." I've been with the company long enough to know your type. You create your own stress. You don't have to be here late. You're here because you don't want to go home. There's no one at home to kiss your ass, is there?"
Her demeanor changed in an instant. Suddenly, I was riding an elevator with a tired, lonely woman who had nothing to look forward to but another day on the job. She had to crane her neck to look at me in the small little room that was climbing to the fifth floor.
"It never occurred to me that I was so rude to you. I always liked you. You and Bob and Kenny were the only guys that treated me like I wasn't an ugly old slut that would go out with any of one of them."
"From what I was told, that's exactly how it is."
The elevator door opened and closed just as quickly when Donna pressed the button for the first floor.
"That's not true! I never did anything with those guys. I've never seen any of them outside of work."
"I can understand that. A bunch of fat old truck drivers and dock workers are bound to tell stories to each other. But that doesn't change things between the two of us."
"What can I do to make this up to you? Just say the word."
You could start by saying you're sorry, I thought to myself.
"I'm not a forgiving person, Donna. I try to be nice to everyone, but once you're off my Christmas list...well; I can't think of anyone that I've made peace with."
"Maybe we both need to change our ways. Come on, Mike, anything you want. I can't stand having someone mad at me. I could make you dinner, what do you say?"
Just say you're sorry, I thought once more. Instead, I thought I'd see just how far this little bitch would go without saying those two little words.
"How about dinner and a movie?"
"I'd like that, Mike."
"How about dinner and a movie, and then we'll go to my place and think of something you can do to make up for your ill manners?"
There it was, my cards were on the table. How far was she willing to go to make peace, or should I say piece? The elevator doors opened and I stepped out. She didn't hesitate to answer.
"What shall I wear?"
"What you have on is fine, just be sure to wear a pretty set of bra and panties."
I reached in and hit the button for the fifth floor. I produced a business card and handed it to her. She stared dumbly at it.
"Friday night, seven o'clock. Email your home address. I'll pick you up."
* * * *
Dinner was nice, but uneventful. We ate pizza and talked about Bob and Kenny. It was about the only thing we had in common. Donna was obviously nervous, so I encouraged her to have some wine with dinner. I was driving, so I stuck with iced tea.
Donna surprised me by making herself more presentable. She still wore jeans, but they were nicer and more expensive than the jeans she wore to work. She'd opted for a tight cashmere sweater, instead of a cheap sweatshirt. The V-neck displayed her ample cleavage admirably, but as I said, large breasts weren't my thing. She'd even applied a little makeup. I'd never noticed she had such pretty eyes. Instead of thanking me for dinner, she looked down at the red checkered table cloth and asked, "What now?"
"That is entirely up to you. I can drive you home, and this will be the last time we speak to each other, or you can come home with me, and we'll see what you can do to make amends for your ill mannered behavior."
We drove in silence to my condo.
