* Finally, the race and thereafter. It's been a long journey for Megan and the mailgirls and I thank everyone who has stuck with her. */
Chapter Twenty-one
Unsurprisingly, Amanda was not interested in getting out out bed early Saturday morning. "Let me sleep."
"I did let you sleep. Now it's time to get up and we can get breakfast at the coffee shop in the lobby."
"But we don't run until ten. That's hours from now."
"Yes, but the men run at eight thirty and Jeremy says it's going to be an absolute madhouse there. I'm heading in now, I've got a reserved parking spot and I'd like to be able to get to it. If I leave you behind you're on your own and you've told me that you have been directed to run today. So let's go."
"But the lobby will be overrun with creeps staring down at the locker room."
"Yes, but they'll just be SG&T creeps. The building is closed to non-employees today. There are a whole row of porta-johns along the south edge of the parking lot, but we can use actual bathrooms inside."
"I'll take an Uber and take my chances. After two years as a mailgirl in that building, I have no desire to spend any additional time there. I'll see you at the starting line."
"You'll need to come a bit before to pick up your number and your timing chip. Numbers were assigned in blocks to teams and SG&T got the first block. You'll be wearing 15, I'm 2. I complained to Jeremy, but he said that came down from the Fifth Floor."
Pulling into the parking lot absurdly early Megan was amazed at the number of cars and people already there. It looked like everyone had gotten the word that today would be crazy. Or there were just a lot of people staking out their best vantage points to see naked women. The security guard waved her through "Just drive around back, Ms Brooks. Enterby the loading dock; it's a more protected space."
A line of food trucks parked along another edge of the parking lot looked to be doing a booming business. The coffee shop was missing out. A section of the lot was closed off with a security guard stationed at the gap in the barricades. Megan noted that the tunnel entrance to the Mailgirls' Dormitory was within the reserved space. She guessed it didn't hurt to provide a bit more security to the back door into the Mailgirls space - yes, it was locked, alarmed, and had cameras inside the tunnel, but today was going to be crazy. Most of the reserved spaces sat empty, the executives and VIPs that would be parking there were apparently more confident than she was about being able to navigate through the traffic as race time approached.
She rang the bell by the door at the loading dock which was promptly opened and a voice greeted her, "Good morning, Ms Brooks. Excited about the big day?"
"This wasn't my idea, Frank. I was much happier running in last year's Corporate Cup - a near total lack of attention is what I'm used to when running This is a circus. I expect you in Security will be pulling down plenty of overtime."
"Oh, yes." He gestured towards a woman standing behind him. "This is my wife, Emily. She doesn't quite believe that all these extra hours at work are mandated, she thinks I just want to get it on with the naked women."
Megan smiled at the other woman, "I'm sure that Frank and his cohort aren't averse to watching the mailgirls, but the folks in Security and IT were always the ones that treated us best. And by that I mean they were pleasant and even respectful. Too many employees seemed to enjoy putting us in our place verbally and by their actions. We always knew that Security was just a push of the panic button away if anyone stepped over the line with a mailgirl."
"You were a mailgirl?"
"I went from Junior Financial Analyst in Chicago to Mailgirl in Washington and now Senior Financial Analyst. I could have done without those first two years here. Has Frank taken you up to the lobby to view the mailgirls?"
"No, this is the first time that I've been here. I'm appalled by the entire mailgirl concept."
"Not as appalled as I was, I'll bet. Let's go upstairs and hit the coffee shop. I need something to fuel me for the race today. And we can observe mailgirls in their habitat.
"I'll bring her back, Frank."
Megan led the other woman down the hall to the service stairs, "Mailgirls are only allowed to use elevators if they're pushing a cart. The regime is very good for the calves and quadriceps."
They climbed a single flight of stairs up to the first floor and strolled together towards the front doors. "Today is not a workday, but there are always people who come in to catch up or prepare for a Monday presentation. Monday through Friday all twenty-four mailgirls would be getting ready for their day and the tables along the railing are premium seating allowing a direct view into the mailgirls locker room. Today there are four mailgirls working the morning shift, four more in the afternoon. Saturday it's eight and eight so the standard schedule is five and a half days per week though that can change at any time. And here we are."
The two women looked over the railing down through the glass walls of the mailgirls locker room - a misnomer, as there were no lockers - and spied a quartet of naked women. Two were crouched down eating and drinking from bowls on the floor, a third was showering, the fourth was seated on a bench, legs spread wide, shaving her pubic area.
"Mailgirls on duty breakfast on Mailgirl Chow from a bowl on the floor, no hands allowed. The third bowl is a water bowl. Lunch is served to mailgirls in the employee dining room, same scenario. Thankfully, SG&T normally orders decently flavored Mailgirl Chow. It's available in a myriad of flavors, some of them quite disgusting. Those flavors appear when Human Capital decides punishment is warranted. Not eating is not an option, even hesitation will result in demerits or even an immediate strike from Mistress V's cane. Mailgirls not on duty eat more normal fare in the privacy of the dormitory, the space behind the locker room. The coffee shop does booming business weekday mornings."
Emily stayed by the railing looking down while Megan placed her order at the coffee shop. She was still standing when Megan returned with her tray and held out the vanilla latte.
"Could I be a mailgirl? I never finished college and working at Macy's is not what I want to do with my life."
"Trust me, being a mailgirl is not what you want to do with your life."
"But Frank says, they make a lot of money and they don't have to worry about anything. I know that mailgirls are treated bad, but try being a sales associate - I doubt that SG&T employees are any worse than some of our customers."