The Caribbean island climate was always tropical and refreshing year-round. It was the perfect venue for indoor, outdoor and beach activities. Ned never checked the weather reports; it was a dismally boring exercise: sunny, passing afternoon showers.
So it was strange that he was fully attentive and prepared to watch every facet of the weather prognostication that Paula was about to present in the small theatre room of the hostel. The projection booth at the rear of the room today would house multiple cameras instead of projectors.
Paula was a TWA graduate with a degree in Mass Communications. She had been shuffling amongst Midwest local stations as a public interest commentator or weather girl. She kept hoping for a sudden sick-day by a regular staff presenter, a lucky chance to demonstrate her skills as a field reporter or a weekend anchor. But the studio executives understood ratings and her great looks left her in parallel moves as the broadcaster's eye candy and charity telethon enticement. Paula decided a different kind of telethon might do the trick. TWA had arranged a private online screening of Paula's qualifications.
Paula appeared stage left dressed in a smart business suit. Her blonde hair was fashionably coiffured; her silver ear baubles sparkled beside her perfect stage makeup. The ruffled blouse was buttoned to the neck; the blazer and skirt were cut neat, articulating her womanly curves. Smoky hose covered her athletically sculpted calves protruding from below her skirt hem down to her black heels.
She stopped left of a blue screen where the graphic illustrations would appear. Further to the right was an electronic tote board. It would display the feedback from the exclusive online audience of executive producers.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my personal telethon. I might call it a dress rehearsal but, as you will soon see, that would be an oxymoron, a contradictory description.
"Today, I am auctioning personal goods and services. I will pause at times during the performance to solicit perks and proceeds. Please wait until invited before entering your offers. At the end of the show, I will select the best one. Sorry, folks, but there can be only one winner. Stay alert, be competitive and good luck."
Ned encouraged Paula with silent hand clapping motions, letting her know he approved of her introduction. He was cooperative but impatient to take his part in the spectacle.
The blue screen lit up with a weather map of the Caribbean Sea, dotted with smiling sunbursts.
"It's going to be lovely everywhere in the region. Lots of sun with maybe a passing afternoon sprinkle to moderate the humidity."
Paula used a palm to fan her chin in mock Southern belle swoon-style. "I am already feeling a bit flush from the heat and this jacket is just too much."
Her hands plucked at a blazer buttons straining over her bosom.
"This coat has to go. But a girl has too watch her clothing budget. Who will bid on a second hand blazer? Can anyone give me $1,000?"
The tote board came alive; the first bid was the minimum. A second bid appeared: $1,200. Another bid followed on the heels of another as a digital clock counted backward from 30 seconds. At zero, a buzzer sounded. Paula walked across the stage and pressed a light beside the highest figure. It appeared at the top of the row with the words: jacket, the amount and an identification number of the bidder. That was the end of round one.
Paula lifted the coat lapels and shrugged it off. She handed it off stage to an assistant.
"Congratulations to the winner. Your prize should arrive by overnight express tomorrow."
She returned to her station, stage left of the blue screen display.
"In sports, today is the anniversary of the famous gold medal victory by the US Women's Soccer team where Mia Hamm ripped off her jersey after the win."
The blue screen showed the legendary celebration by the team's star player.
