The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by MTM Enterprises and CBS Television. This story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be considered parody. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story.
*****
Baby, if you've ever wondered,
Wondered whatever became of me,
I'm living on the air in Cincinnati,
Cincinnati, WKRP.
Got kind of tired packing and unpacking,
Town to town and up and down the dial
Maybe you and me were never meant to be,
But baby think of me once in awhile.
I'm at WKRP in Cincinnati..
Theme by T Wells and H Wilson
The hands on the wall clock reached six o'clock, marking the end of afternoon drive time and the work day for most of the staff at WKRP. Bailey Quarters, Administrative Assistant and sometimes news broadcaster, looked up from the pile of papers on her desk, noted the time, and sighed. It was the end of another day and another week, during which the twenty-four year old brunette had come no closer to her goal of becoming an on-air news personality than she had the month before. In the six weeks since she had added back-up news commentator to her duties, Bailey had been on the air a total of exactly seventy-two minutes. A number that was not likely to change anytime soon. Not as long as the news department of the small radio station was headed by Les Nessman, a quirky little man who viewed the local farm reports as more important than national news.
Still, there were some advantages to working for a small 5,000 watt AM station that had yet to break out of the lower half of an eighteen station market, chief of which was the people she worked with. At the top of that list was, Arthur Carlson, a.k.a. "the Big Guy", who was the station's General Manager. Not exactly a skilled business man, he was more like a favorite uncle who'd take you out for ice cream after your parent's had said no. When people first met him, they usually found it incomprehensible that anyone would put him in a position of responsibility. An opinion usually based on the fact that they didn't know that his mother owned the radio station, and it was only part of the Carlson fortune. One that could be allowed to lose money if only to offset successes in other areas.
Next on her mental list had to be Andy Travis, the young Programming Director who had moved up from Santa Fe to managed WKRP when it switched from sedate oldies to top forty rock and roll. It had been Andy who promoted her and was responsible for what air time she'd managed to get so far. The only problem was that, after giving her the back-up spot, he'd been reluctant to press Les to give up any of his own slots on the schedule.
Two of the DJ's were also close friends of hers. Johnny Fever, who did the early morning show, and Venus Flytrap, who did late night. Each had their own unique style and personalities and were partially responsible for the station's minor rise in the ratings over the last few months.
A success that had come despite the problems caused by Herb Tarlek, an egotistical troublemaker and general jackass who was the station's Sales Manager. Constantly bringing in clients like the Shady Hill Rest Home or Ferriman Funerals, hardly the norm for the younger demographics the station was looking for, Tarlek, like Nessman was a holdover from before Travis's arrival. Putting up with both men's incompetence was something they all had to endure.
Of course the most fascinating person at the station had to be Jennifer Marlowe. Ostensively just WKRP's receptionist, the thirty-something blonde was also the highest paid employee at the station. Her main function seemed to be keeping Mr. Carlson out of trouble, a task that she did extremely well. Beautiful, sexy and highly intelligent, she always seemed more aware of everything that happened in and out of the office then the rest of the staff combined.
The speaker on the wall, permanently turned to the station's spot on the AM dial, filled with the echoing introduction that announced Les Nessman and the News. Not wanting to sit and listen to another rendition of hog futures and other agricultural reports, Bailey got up from her desk and headed out to the reception area. She knew from past experience that Jennifer usually turned the speaker out there off, especially when Les was on.
Stepping into the small lobby where Jennifer's desk was located, Bailey found herself arriving just in time for the day's tenth, and hopefully last, attempt by Herb Tarlek to hit on Jennifer. A daily ritual, it was a pitiful sight to say the least.
Not that it wasn't understandable why any man would try ten times a day to ask Jennifer out. After all, with long, rich blonde hair and a body to kill for, the receptionist was everything any man could ask for. It was the fact that aside from being married, Herb was so far out of his league with Jennifer as to need a road map to find his way back.
Dressed in a gaudy plaid suit that had never been in style, Herb was exactly the opposite of the men that Jennifer dated. The common factor among which, aside from style and intelligence, seemed to be that they were usually old enough to quality for social security, but rich enough to never need it.
"Come on gorgeous," Herb said as he leaned forward just enough to take a good look down Jennifer's dress, "what say you and I have an early dinner and a late night?"
"That sounds like a marvelous idea," Jennifer said unexpectedly, surprising both Bailey and Herb. "It just so happens that the hostess at Robbin Bleu is an old friend of mine. I'm sure if I call her we'll be able to get a table without a reservation."
"Robbin Bleu?" Herb almost choked on the name of the hottest and predictably most expensive new nightspot in Cincinnati. "Dinner there costs more than I make in a week. I was thinking more on the lines of Surf and Turf at Clarke's Grill down the block."
"Herb," Jennifer said with a cold, icy stare, "look at me. Do I look like I do Surf and Turf at Clarke's?"
Humbled, the Sales Manager turned and slipped away without saying another word. Jennifer was sure, however, that come Monday morning, he would try once more.
"You let him off pretty easy this time," Bailey commented as she walked over to the desk from the alcove where she had watched the little play unfold.
"I don't like to crush him too hard before the weekend," Jennifer smiled. "It's not fair to his wife."
Bailey paused a the moment to think of Herb's wife, a perky woman named Lucille who she'd met a few times. That she shared a bed with Herb was enough to make the brunette shudder as she tried to suppress that particular image.
"Wait a second," Bailey said as she shook her head to banish that thought. "Didn't we go to Clarke's last month for Johnny's birthday?"
"Yes, and it was lovely," Jennifer grinned. "But if you remember, Herb didn't come with us after he found out that he couldn't put the lunch on his expense account."
"You're so bad," Bailey laughed.