Mitch was dreading Monday. To make things worse, he told none of his family during the weekend what was going to happen in the office after those few days off. Instead he was just unusually irritable and refused to explain why. He wondered how the six mailgirls were handling their last few days of normalcy and decided that they were probably relaxed about it and resigned to what would happen. The interviews suggested that they had all worked out in their own ways what they were doing and why. The five that he had interviewed. Although they were not the ones who carried responsibility for the program. They just had to look after themselves. The five.
Their contracts made it pretty clear that they were going to be well looked after as well as well paid. No wonder Jackson had agreed to be a mailgirl for three months. She had worked out a pretty cushy wicket for the term of her contract. Probably a lot less stressful than her usual job. He wondered how she would handle it. Jackson. Jackson who had not interviewed or taken anything off or in any way shown that she was capable of being a mailgirl. She had simply gone straight into his office, looked him in the eye and told him she would do it. It was too late to do anything about it, Mitch decided. Finally, he slept well on Sunday night.
And the other thing. Mitch had been trying to prepare his speech for Monday. Every attempt had either been too pompous, contained observations that were probably not wise to make in front of his staff or the mailgirls or was otherwise just boring and pointless, an interesting irony considering what was going happen in the office. And each draft seemed to turn into a litany of warnings. That was not the way to launch the program, he knew that. Was his starting point really that the presence of six naked women all day in the office would turn everybody back to the worst aspects of their adolescence? It seemed so. He knew that haranguing the staff at the start of their adventure was not a good idea.
So he decided to wing it. He would look around on the day and get inspiration on his feet. He would be positive at all costs. He did toy with the phrase "I hereby declare the mailgirls open" but knew he was not going to say that.
And then it was nine o'clock on Monday morning and Mitch was standing in front of perhaps half of his staff with a number of others watching on the video link. Mitch knew that the six who soon to be mailgirls were there dressed, amongst their unsuspecting colleagues in the meeting room, clothed in the office for the last time and soon to be revealed. He looked around for Betty Cuthbert, but she had carried out her threat to stay at her desk and look after any incoming calls.
Mitch rabbited on for a short while about the exciting phase about to happen in their office, first time in Australia, the noble traditions of Harada Industries, then assuming that he had said enough that no one would remember, he introduced Wendy Turnbull, a large but appealing woman who would be the mailgirls' supervisor. Then without any clever comments, as plain as he could make it, he named the mailgirls one by one. As each one was announced, she moved to the front from where she had been standing in the room, stripped off her clothes and handed them to Wendy Turnbull then stood, naked and facing her colleagues. It was clear that the Melbourne mailgirls were in no way uniform in appearance like the Japanese or American ones. The local cohort ranged from the tall, lanky Annette Kellerman to the stocky and curvy Heather McKay.
Mitch called out Jackson's name last. There was a gasp of surprise. Mitch himself was curious about seeing her naked. Jackson had been standing near Mitch, where you would expect someone who had worked closely with him to be. But when her name was called, she went over to Wendy at the other side of the room to strip and then to the end of the line of naked mailgirls, furtherest from Mitch, so he had no option but to rubberneck to see her, which he wasn't going to do as he professionally made eye contact with the front row of colleagues who despite the distractions in front of them also were trying to appear professional.
Wendy took over as soon as Jackson had lined up with the others. "Mailgirls will be going down to the mezzanine now for final briefing, an inspection and the final testing of the pagers," she announced.
Mitch butted in there. "You will be able to summon the mailgirls for deliveries, let's say, from about midday." He looked over at Wendy Turnbull who nodded. "In that case the meeting is over. Enjoy the rest of your day."
And who knows, he thought, what is going to happen next.
***
After the excitement of the launch, Mitch sat at his desk, alone in his office trying to process that there were now six naked women on the mezzanine who would be naked throughout the working day somewhere in the building under his watch.
Shane burst in. "This is great day for the company, Mitch. Drink?"
"You think so," Mitch asked sullenly.
Shane was not going to be downbeat. "We did it," he exclaimed, "naked women in the office!" He looked closely at Mitch. "Does Mr Harada know?" he asked with a knowing smile.
Mitch conceded a reluctant smile to his deputy. "I was just going to tell me."
For once Mr Harada praised Mitch and told him that he would not regret it. Ever his own publicity machine, Mr Harada made sure that the press knew about the Melbourne mailgirl launch which meant that TV cameras and photographers descended on the office. Mitch's preparations however went well and no one got any footage of anyone without their clothes. A few workers from the office were chased by journalists trying to evade the cameras when they went out of the office at lunchtime. The only one who appeared on the news was a young guy with a ton of attitude who stopped, stared into the closest camera and stated "if there are any naked women in our office, I haven't seen them." That kept the excitement outside the office alive for only a day or so. Later in the week, a news crew would chase that same employee down Swanston Street shouting "have you seen any yet?" and only getting an enigmatic smile in response.
So that first day's excitement quickly died down outside the offices of Harada Industries. Inside the office it was a bit of a phony war. Mitch checked the app at three in the afternoon to find no one had thought to call out a mailgirl for a delivery yet. He emailed the news to Shane and was not surprised five minutes later to find a call had registered. Not surprisingly the call was logged to Mailgirl 1, the first on the list. Recalling that the Melbourne mailgirls were to be addressed by their names, Mitch wondered which mailgirl was on their way to pick up from Shane. He called the IT people downstairs and explained the issue to them.
After a refresh of the app with the numbers replaced by their names, Mitch saw that the order was Annette, Heather, Kimiko, Jan, Lauryn, and Jackson. So the lanky triathlete was the first to pick up and deliver solo in the building. Heather was beeped shortly after and so it began.
The next morning, Mitch arrived in the foyer to wonder why so many of his employees were gathered at the windows on the upper floors that looked down on the entrance area. He was in the lift before he remembered. Mailgirl preparation and presentation. It did cause a dilemma for him. Did he lead the charge and also watch what was happening on the mezzanine. Or did he stand back and discretely let the others perve and just not get involved until he had to. Getting out of the lift Mitch found the matter was resolved for him. The windows on his floor were crowded with employees craning to see what the mailgirls were up to. With no room for him, Mitch went straight to his office. Betty Cuthbert was at her desk engrossed in her computer screen.
"Good morning, Betty," Mitch called to her.
"Is it?" she muttered, not looking up. "Don't forget you have a nine o'clock with the audit and risk team." Mitch nodded his acknowledgement wondered how to deal with her. Could she ever accept the mailgirls?
At quarter to nine, Jan wandered past Betty who pointedly did not look up from her screen and knocked on Mitch's door. "Come in," he called out.
Jan strode in looking straight ahead, just past Mitch. He appreciated that she had a light sweat from climbing the stairs. She stopped a good way short of his desk.
"Everything okay?" Mitch asked her.
"Am I supposed to get down on my knees or something?" she asked.
"I don't think so," Mitch replied. "Unless you want to."
"Ah well, I'll stand then," she decided. She slouched where she stood, a naked woman with one leg a little bent in front of the other for balance, one hand on a thigh. "I have a message for you," she recited. "Mr Crawford wants to remind you there's a meeting at nine."
