Mailgirls On The Run Pt 08 1

This won't make any sense unless you've read the previous chapters. This part has been all but finished for months with me trying to bring it to a conclusion. Its abrupt end is due as much to frustration as an editorial decision. I do know where the next part is going -- now if I can get it there in a timely fashion. My writing is going about as well as my running these days. Sigh.

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Chapter Fourteen

Megan arrived at work bright and early Monday morning. The coffee shop was doing its usual brisk early morning business. The tables along the rail overlooking the lower lobby and the Mailgirls' Locker Room were packed. At other major commercial banks the early arrivals were following events in London and the rest of Western Europe five (London) or six (Western Europe) hours ahead of the US East Coast time. At Sloane Guaranty & Trust they were watching twenty-four naked women shower and otherwise get ready for their day's work as mailgirls.

Megan paid attention to neither the women or the voyeurs as she marched towards the stairwell leading up to her third floor office. As much as she hated to admit it she was going to spend much time and energy managing mailgirl affairs through to the Corporate Challenge. She was going to have to sell this allocation of time and energy to Mr Bratz. Then if she was going to be so enmeshed in mailgirls she was going to manage the mailgirls the way she saw fit and she was going to have to sell that to Ms Barnes. Or more realistically, Dawlish and Holt were going to have to back her from on high.

Upon settling at her desk and bringing up her computer she found that Bob Starnes had been there before her. She had a note from Bob with an attachment of a draft memo, "Participation of Mailgirls in the Corporate Challenge." She scanned the memo which talked about the Corporate Challenge, the appointment of Bob Starnes and Megan Brooks to lead SG&T's team, and the inclusion of mailgirls on the SG&T team. The most important point of the memo to Megan's mind was the statement that mailgirls while training would be under the exclusive control of the team leaders.

Mr Starnes answered her call, "Bob, are you going to be able to get that memo signed off on and how far does exclusive control go?"

"Holt, Dawlish, and Soames are on board so it should be good to go essentially as written. Exclusive control means that while training they can't be issued demerits for being out of uniform or pretty much anything else except by you and me. We'll be able to put any or all of the seven mailgirls into training mode and lock everyone else out from tasking them. This is for training runs and team meetings, not 24/7, from now through race day. The bras are arriving today so you'll be able to issue them and we can start regular workouts. You need to get the upgraded app for your smartphone to do the tasking."

"I thought Holt and Dawlish were likely to be supportive, but Soames is a surprise. Assuming the bras do show up today, I'll call a team meeting this evening and talk to them about training. We're what, eight weeks out now?"

"Eight weeks from yesterday."

"And we've also got the disruption of Mailgirls Thirteen through Eighteen coming to the end of their contracts next month. I know what's going on with Fourteen and Fifteen, but no word on the other four and there will be up to a half-dozen new mailgirls to break in which is not our problem, but Ms Barnes will be using that as a reason to crack down on the other eighteen, five of whom are our team."

"I'll talk to Ms Barnes about the need to leave our mailgirls in condition to run. You're going to draw enough of her fire by scheduling them for training. It might also be a good idea to sound out some of the male runners about training with the women."

"That you can broach with Ms Barnes. Mistress V was not happy about the interaction with the spectators before and after the time trials; they're likely to see coed running as more of the same."

"I can pitch it as a security measure and I'm sure that I can bring Mr Holt on board."

Megan had email from the IT department with a link to upgrade the Mailgirls App on her smartphone. She then tested it by putting in a request to have Mailgirl Fourteen report now. She got back an ETA of one mintute, 15 seconds from which she deduced that Fourteen was currently kneeling on a mat one, at most two floors away.

Mailgirl Fourteen was standing in front of Megan's desk with eight seconds to spare. Megan tapped her smartphone to confirm the mailgirl's arrival and said, "Maria, Mr Fforde and I drove up to Frederick yesterday and I introduced him to Professor Chang. Your mother mailed him three boxes of your clothing and possessions. Lin and I sorted through them and put them away in her spare bedroom, -so you'll be able to blend in on campus. I kept out a pair of jeans, a bra, and a blouse for you to wear when we drop you off at the train next week. Ms Barnes has decreed no panties going or coming; you have panties in Frederick if you wish to wear them. I found it very easy to get back into underpants, a bra not so much.

Also, I'm going to call a team meeting this evening; I'll order carry-out from the dining room. Please have the other women let me know if there are any special requests."

"Twenty-three is a vegetarian."

"Thank you. And for you?"

"Nothing too messy, otherwise anything that isn't Mailgirl Chow."

"There should be a memo out today announcing the Corporate Challenge and the participation of mailgirls. Ms Barnes may not be pleased.

"Maria, what was it like last year when the first two groups of mailgirls completed their contracts? You had what, eight new mailgirls in about six weeks?"

"It was grim. Ms Barnes was freaking out; Mistress V was cracking down on everyone trying to impress discipline on the new mailgirls and making sure the rest of us knew our place. It was a question of what would wear out first: our butts or her arm. Ten really came into her own then, providing support to the rest of us and offering up you and Nurse Allen as proof that there was life after mailgirl. Mailgirl Three that was, Ms Alvado, didn't count. We all knew Soames was sleeping with her before she was a mailgirl and never stopped. Ten says that Human Capital will handle the transition better this time."

"Oh, and speaking of Ms Alvado, remember that health care under your mailgirl contract covers neither contraception nor pregnancy. I would recommend having Professor Chang direct you to the college health center.

The mailgirls running memo arrived in Megan's inbox about 2:30 in essentially the form that Bob Starnes had sent her that morning. Just after three Mailgirl One showed up at Megan's desk with a FedEx package. Normally FedEx deliveries to Megan's desk were documents; this was a box and judging by the ease with which One carried it, it wasn't a box of paper.

"Thank you. Let's see if this is what I think it is."

Megan sliced open the box and under the tissue paper found a web of satin bands. "You can pass on to the runners that their bras have arrived."

One giggled and turned to leave heading for the mat near the Admin's desk where she would wait for her next delivery request.

After doing a quick check and confirming that the package contained ten of the satin garments -- they'd been ordered before Twenty-three arrived -- Megan scheduled a conference room for an hour at 6:30 p.m. She then brought up the Mailgirl App and scheduled the six mailgirls for a meeting in the conference room. She decided to wait for any feedback on dinner selections to order carry-out from the dining room.

After a full day of doing actual financial analysis, Megan shut down her system and carried the box down the hall to Conference Room B. Twelve and Twenty-three were already in the room, kneeling against the wall.

"Okay, ladies let's get this table against the wall and move the chairs out of the way. I'll push Human Capital to feed you real food, but letting you on furniture might be a bridge too far."

Mailgirls Three, Four, and Twenty-two arrived while Megan was setting out the bras on the conference table. "We don't have bras for you as yet, Felicity; I will ping Mr Dawlish about it in the morning. We're just waiting on Fourteen and Fifteen with the food."

The floor was cleared and the women were sitting, not kneeling, on the floor when they heard a thump at the door. Upon checking with Megan, Twenty-two got up and opened the door to find Fifteen pushing a loaded cart. "Fourteen got stopped by one of the twerps from the trading desk. Chicago is not coming soon enough."

Megan rose intending to get Fourteen herself, but the door opened again and the tall brunette entered. "He was so upset to find that he couldn't stick me with a demerit. I escaped while he was trying to get someone from IT to listen to him."

"As long as he complains to IT nothing will come of it. It could be a problem if Human Capital gets enough complaints or if they take out their frustration on other mailgirls. Now just spread out those dishes on the table -- there are two vegetarian entrees, leave one for Felicity. I'll take whatever is left. And yes, once Maria closes the door you can break out the silverware. Just remember that you're going to pay for these meals with miles on the treadmill tomorrow and Wednesday, then it's back outdoors Saturday morning."

Besides the plates of real food and knives and forks and spoons, there were pitchers of iced tea and lemonade -- high treats for mailgirls who were usually restricted to water. The seven women set to work with a will.

As they were finishing -- no leftovers for this group -- Megan announced, "Training begins tomorrow. Take your bras with you back to the dorm. We're going to begin with running on the treadmill. I'll direct two of you each afternoon to report to the fitness center where you'll run for forty minutes. After a brief warmup up your speed to 7 ½ miles/hour, that's eight minutes per mile. If you feel good you can up the speed, but I want you to run for forty minutes. Felicity, keep working on the treadmill in the dorm until Ms Bratz has you doing deliveries. You know what you're doing, don't overdo it. Everybody will run on the course Saturday morning. We'll do a warm-up jog over the three-k loop and then four to five one-k repeats, finishing with another one to three-k warm-down. Wear your bras and shoes.

"Five mailgirls' contracts expire next month. Ms Bratz is going to complain that she can't have mailgirls going off to run when you've got potentially five new mailgirls to break in and Fourteen working part-time. I'll point out to her that when Fourteen and Fifteen and the others showed up for training we had only twelve mailgirls and we got the job done. There is solid backing from the fifth floor for this endeavor as witness the bras and shoes. Does anyone want to volunteer for the first day on the treadmill?"

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Just before 3 p.m., Megan checked on the status of her six mailgirls and directed Four and Twelve to report to the fitness center by way of the dorm. She was standing by the door when Twelve jogged up and said that Four was on her way. "As I exited the locker room somebody shouted from the lobby above that I was out of uniform. I ignored them, but I don't know if they did any more than yell down."

"I'll go check on Four, you can get started on the treadmill up in front."

Megan walked down the hall -- she didn't jog in pumps and a suit -- to find Four in 'Toes' position with two men swearing at their cellphones standing around her.

"Gentlemen, would you please let this Mailgirl get on with her assignment."

"Just as soon as I hand her a demerit for being improperly clothed."

"She's reporting for running duty -- you got the memo yesterday. Therefore she is correctly attired and while training she may only be assessed demerits by authorized supervisors -- that was also in the memo. Mailgirl Four, you're late, get to the fitness center."

Megan returned to the fitness center to find Twelve running easily and Four just starting up. "If anyone gives you trouble just tell them that Mailgirl whatever is training pursuant to Memo 23-73 from the Executive Board as posted on the bulletin board. Remember, forty minutes on the treadmill, then back to the locker room to shed your shoes and bra and take a shower. IT has arranged to route the video from the camera over there to my monitor and I'll keep an eye out to make sure there isn't any trouble. Have a good run."

Mailgirls Fourteen and Fifteen did their forty minute session on the treadmills on Wednesday. The only untoward note was an email requesting that the schedule be posted so that "we can determine the optimum time to use the fitness center." Megan passed that on to Human Capital.

More worrisome was her 5 p.m. appointment with Human Resources. Megan bet that the topic would be her complaint about Ms Aldridge and that was borne out immediately upon being ushered into the HR Director's Office.

"There is nothing 'alleged' about the incident. I have video of the entire incident from the time I walked into the dormitory until I walked out with a well-wealed ass. I have photos of my ass taken less than an hour later. My attorney has copies of both the video and the photos. There are twenty-four witnesses to what happened and some of them will not be mailgirls after next month; several are likely to leave the employ of SG&T. I was beaten by Mistress V, that is Ms Wilhelm, at the direction of Ms Aldridge. I don't blame Mistress V any more than I blame the cane. Ms Aldridge is the guilty party here."

"What are you looking for in the way of resolution of this incident?"

"Ms Aldridge needs to be stopped. I can swear out a criminal complaint; I could initiate a civil suit against Ms Aldridge and the bank. Both would lead to unwelcome publicity for both the bank and myself. I'm not looking for a financial settlement. My bottom line is that Ms Aldridge cannot continue abusing me or anyone else and needs to face some consequences for her actions.

"I am not crusading against mailgirls at SG&T. I'm a financial analyst, I've looked at the numbers and the rise in productivity is very real. What those numbers don't show is the long term cost of what it does to the bank's ability to recruit women to work in professional capacities. Nor does it quantify the difficulties faced by former mailgirls such as myself in working with others who can't get past our past and work with us as professional colleagues. Mailgirl Fifteen is coming to the end of her contract and is looking forward to moving on to a responsible position in Chicago where she won't be working daily with colleagues who remember her crouching naked on the floor eating out of a dog bowl. I hope it works for her. Ms Aldridge can't be allowed to torture her as well, Fifteen will have enough to face."

"You do realize that Ms Aldridge is outside of the scope of the HR Department here. This is going to be decided at the Board of Directors level. We don't have video of the incident -- I'm not going to ask how you obtained it. Would you provide us with a copy of the video and your photos? You may be deposed along with your witnesses; if you take it to the courts that will certainly occur. You will want your lawyer with you if that happens."

"Yes, I do. I'll send you copies of the video and photos tomorrow, delivered via mailgirl, of course."

"Sarah, I was called in to speak to the head of HR today. I told her that I wanted Ms Aldridge stopped. I also told her that I had spoken with an attorney who had copies of the video and the photos of my beaten ass. I didn't tell her that you were the attorney."

"Where did you leave this discussion?"

"She asked for copies of the video and photos and said that any action against Ms Aldridge would have to go to the Board of Directors."

"Well, Human Resources and the Legal Department in Chicago could deal with it, but since she crossed over to the Washington headquarters that's probably where it's headed. Any word on the new mailgirl Twenty-three?"

"Mr Fforde said that he was giving Mohr Brothers until Friday before turning it over to his colleague in the San Francisco office. So, I'm just waiting to hear..

"Oh, would you and Sam like to come for brunch on Saturday? And a pre-brunch run? I'm going to have the mailgirls run the course and it wouldn't hurt to have a few people run with them. I could call Sam directly and offer up naked women to him. And yes, I'm planning to ask Brendan."

Mailgirls Three and Twenty-two did their forty minute treadmill session on Thursday in a packed fitness center. Every piece of apparatus was in use when the two women walked in, except for two treadmills. Megan had her doubts about the quality of exercise going on in that room except for the two women who hopped onto their treadmills and got right to work. Mailgirls had a lot of practice in seeming to be oblivious to the attention they garnered even while some of them -- not to mention any names, Samantha -- played to the crowd.

Brendan had accepted her invitation for a workout and brunch on Saturday as had Kylie Brenner who was heading back to college the following week.

Friday she messaged Mr Fforde about his inquiry into Felicia Cooper's assets. He pointed out that COB on the West Coast was three hours later, but expected no response. He added that he'd already written the follow-up request which would go out by registered mail Saturday morning, with a copy to Rhimes in San Francisco via email, if no response.

Megan pulled into the SG&T parking lot shortly after 7 a.m. Saturday morning. She had texted reminders to Brendan, Sarah, and Kylie Only Sarah had responded; Megan figured the other two were still asleep or already on the road. Bob Starnes was setting up a table and Megan could see a large water jug on a flatbed behind him along with a box of paper cups. She gave him a wave intending to go straight to the Mailgirls' Locker Room, but he motioned her to come over.

"Megan, I recruited two potential members of our men's team to run with the women this morning: Corey from Auditing and a new guy, just transferred in from Chicago."

"I've also got some people coming: my friend Sarah Stevens and her fiance, Sam, my friend Brendan who you've met, and Kylie from Marathon Sports. We'll make sure Security knows everyone so they know who is supposed to be running along with them."

Megan stopped by the Security Desk to confirm the morning's schedule and to let them know that there would be four men and two women besides her running with the mailgirls. Then it was down the stairway to the locker room.

Mailgirl Twenty-two was not pleased with her sister. While there were some aspects of this running gig that she approved of -- real food eaten with knives and forks on Monday -- Saturday was her day off this week and here she was at 7 a.m. in the locker room. What's more Seven, who was working the Saturday morning shift, had checked the weather and it was already in the low 80s with high humidity. For most of her mailgirl life weather was something briefly glimpsed out the window while making deliveries. Occasionally you had to make a run to one of the other buildings on the SG&T campus and there were the quarterly fire drills, but mostly it was the slightly too-cold for undressed females office environment.

Megan had messaged the mailgirls to reiterate today's workout and then Twenty-three had explained what she meant. They had worked out that in the absence of a track the one-k repeats would follow the yellow line in the parking lot. There were fifteen women getting ready in the locker room, the eight working the morning shift putting on their makeup, the seven runners getting dressed in their shoes and satin bras. Megan had been firm that running attire was acceptable wear from locker room to workout and back and amazingly Mistress V had backed down.