Small Town Stimulus Plan

When my plane touched down in Atlanta, I felt like I wanted to get out and kiss the ground, working in South America for two years made you really appreciate what you had in the good old USA. I had spent two years closing manufacturing plants in Brazil, all had fallen victim to the downturn in the economy. I had a week off before I had to appear at corporate and I used my time to go to my favorite Atlanta restaurants, look up some old friends and just slowly unwind and get back into the Atlanta culture that changes as the summer gets warmer.

The week went too fast and I put on a suit and tie and headed into the YTC Financial Center; investors in facilities world wide. We basically bought distressed companies and either turned them into something profitable and re-sold them or broke them into parts and scrapped them. Both types of deals had their own unique set of circumstances that help make the right or wrong decision whether to close and put people out of work or to keep people working and grow the company.

My "de-briefing" interview we scheduled for ten, and I arrived a few minutes prior to the interview time to see if any of the old staff still worked on the twentieth floor in the YTC Building. Having been gone for two years there was a sense of some thing seeming familiar in parts of the office but an awful lot of new faces and people promoted while I had been gone.

My boss, Ted, rose and greeted me with a pat on the back and his job well done smile. We chit chatted about sports and family and business for a while and then got down to business. I had a couple of choices for my career; either stay at corporate and direct a division of managers in buying and selling of distressed properties, or back out to the field and try to salvage some broken down company that was costing too much money to run.

It didn't take me long to decide that staying at corporate would be very difficult, didn't look like much fun, so I opted to take the field position and hoped that this time I might get to go to Europe or perhaps to Mexico. Well, I guess I was close; I am headed to Shrine, Iowa, population of less then six-thousand souls and the home of the mighty, OPC, the Opte Process Company.

I had a week to get together all of the needed documents and arrange my personal affairs. I took the liberty of looking up the city of Sunrie and found it dead smack in the middle between nowhere and anywhere. Well, I thought, a summer in Iowa may be quite nice for a change, good clean air, no traffic jams and maybe some wholesome looking corn fed farm girls that were looking for a little adventure.

I kind of pissed away the rest of the week; deposited my bonus and travel expense checks, closed up my house with the intention of coming back in a couple of months, got my pick up out of the garage and headed west for a slow and fun filed trip to Iowa, the land of "Idiots Out Wandering Around".

After driving forever, I got of the interstate and headed north for the 21.8 corn growing miles and right there, as predicted on the map, was the city center and a monument of some famous person I had never heard of. I drove around town slowly taking in the sites; hardware, a diner, an appliance shop, a florist another empty building, town hall and about three blocks of plain but well kept buildings.

The plant was located at the edge of town, not hard to find when the town was built around the plant as it grew from its roots during World War I. A manufacture of tank and heavy duty parts that transitioned to aircraft bombing and metal fusion parts for World War II that now was the only support manufacture to the aircraft industry of specialty screws, attachments and precise coupling pieces. The plant had a great quality reputation, but the changes in management and ownership over the years had led to sales down turns, decline of the plant and its grounds and a low moral level among the employees.

The first general manger had been there for 30 years and several managers after that had numerous favorable years of that position, but in the last six years there were three jerks that had run things into the ground and the last one had been escorted out by the federal marshal office for corporate fraud and was currently sitting in a cell in parts unknown. My first impressions of the plant weren't really favorable; it was old, needed painting, new windows and some general updating. The only gate guard waved me down as I drove up and stepped up to my truck to see what I wanted.

I introduced myself lf as JJ, as I always went by my nickname and Karl, the guard for over forty years said "yep, heard you was coming, but aint you a day or two early?" I laughed, and let him know that I was excited about getting to work and wanted to check out the town and see all of the sites. He kind of smirked and spit and said, "You can see all of the sites in about five minutes, most people just pass through or stay out on the interstate and only come to this town for the festivals and stuff."

I figured Karl could talk to me all day, but I thanked him and he directed me to the unlocked side door to get into the plant. They let that door remain unlocked because they couldn't find the key and it was handy when the guards wanted to get in from the cold or the heat or just bored.

The inside office space was as dated as the exterior of the building, small congested and drab would be the best description. I tossed my briefcase on the desk in the plant manager's office and sat down and put my feet up on the desk. Many times in my life I just sat there and wonder, what the fuck did \I get myself into and was this was one of those times. As I tilted back in the over stuffed office chair, I sensed that the layout of the office was all wrong, the worn path on the floor ran from the one office door right into two file cabinets and a wall.

I got up, grabbed the first cabinet and kind of worked it back and forth away from the wall, then I squeezed past it and man-handled the second cabinet so I could squeeze my body behind them and try to figure out what there was a worn path that stopped right in the middle of the room. Pushing aside a bit of cheap wall paper, I discovered a door that had been sealed and hidden and with a screw driver I found in the office desk, pried it open with a groan from the hinges. As I stepped through the opening I fount that It opened into the hallway of the main entrance

And right above the door, in very faint lettering was printed, 'mangers' door all ways open for the greatest employees in the world.' I kind of chuckled and thought, maybe some of the things that had worked in the past, would help the situation now. I pushed the door open while going back into the office and wrestled the file cabinets out the other door and figured I would get someone to stick them somewhere else tomorrow. Taped to the back of the one cabinet was an old ledger book that showed a lot of wear and tea from its years. I pulled off the old tape and leaned against the receptionist desk to take a peek at what I had found. It was a weekly journal from the last successful manager of the plant that had been here for 30 years, it noted dates, people names, projects, ideas and some daily thought on how to make more with less.

I paged turned the journal for a while and then tossed it into my briefcase, may be good reading some night when I had nothing else to do. I grabbed my jacket, turned out the lights and kind of wondered around the e plant floor for about an hour or so and headed out the door. Hoping back into my truck, I thought it best to say good bye to Karl and pulled over to the guard shack. Karl got up out of his chair and kind of looked at me funny. I asked what was wrong and he said that there was blood all over my face. I looked into the mirror inside my truck and since I had wiped my face with my arm, I had smeared blood from a cut from moving the file cabinets.

Karl said that I had better go see Doc Vern, open on the weekends until seven and he was just two blocks away. I thanked him, headed out the parking lot, and went left for two blocks and pulled up to an old fashion white farm house with a MD sign out front. I hopped out of the truck and walked up the sidewalk to see the Doc. Doc Vern had to be eighty years old, bald, short but very active and alert, he welcomed me into his office right off of the living room.

Doc got right down to business as he washed and stitched my cut and did the blood pressure and temperature things that doctors do. Before he got all done, Doc took enough blood for three samples, and I didn't ask him what for, but when I left, I was kind of curious why you needed blood samples for a gash in my arm.

On Monday morning, I arrived at seven to get the day started early and see what was in store for the new plant manager. Obviously, word had traveled all the way through town as there were waves and greeting from everyone I came across. Mrs. Jones, the matriarch of the office, whose desk was located right outside my office door, intercept me with a quick nod and wave as I made my way up the hall.

I got down to business right away with the 8:00 am meeting of the parade float committee. About ten minutes to eight, five individuals clad in various work attire drifted into the waiting room and talked quietly back and forth waiting for me to get off the telephone. I quickly waved everyone in and stood and shook hands all the way around as the group introduced themselves. Betty, about fifty, short, stocky and a welder was chairperson, Belinda, blonde, maybe five foot tall couldn't tell much else as she had on work overalls and a hat with her ponytail pulled through the back, Bob, shop Forman, work shirt, maybe forty years old and Devine and Dustan, a pair of twins from engineer in their late twenties made up the parade float group.

Betty handed me a report on progress and ideas to get me up to speed. Glancing at the report, I immediate said, "Wait a minute. There is a terrible error here." The room got deadly quiet as I called out for Mrs. Jones to bring me the green book. The green book was a slush fund that the company had for events and I wanted to fix a problem in employee moral right then and there.

Mrs. Jones, walked around the group, opened the green book and I took my pen and wrote Betty a check for a thousand dollars, signed it, entered the amount, tore out the check and handed it to her, then handed the green book back to Mrs. Jones. Betty, looked at the check and said,' JJ what is this for?" I replied. "I see that the plant only gave you two hundred dollars for the float, and I feel that is simply not enough, you have one thousand dollars more to make the plant proud of your efforts and if you need more money, we can discuss it next Monday on our update meeting for the float." Well, if silence could have killed me, I would have died and been buried right then and there as everyone just kind of shook their heads and mumbled thanks and left the room.

The rest of the week was spent in meeting the people in the plant, trying to figure out why production was so far off and I made numerous meager attempts to come to grips with a plant that had been so abused for so long. Good hard working people, inept management, but the opportunity of a life time if I could stand to live here long enough to make a difference.

On Thursday, the festival committee had its meeting in the lunch room as it totaled about twenty or so people from all parts of the plant. The summer festival was a combination fun times, coupled with food contests and an animal auction, a giant B-B-Q and all of the going ons that make summer the best time of the year. In the journal I had found, it talked about supporting the local vendors that set up in the vendor tent, bidding up and then buying auction items and then having the plant donate the winning auction items to the community carry-in-dinner and then taking that money to support the orphanage on the outskirts of town

I liked all of the ideas and sensed another way to combine the changes being made in the plant and helping the local community. The orphanage wasn't there anymore, but I assumed, if I asked, there were several worth while causes where the funds could go.

I walked into the lunch room and took my seat off to the side as Christi Bell called the meeting to order. Christi was a MILF if there ever was one; five foot three, one hindered and ten pounds of toned body. She ran the loading dock and worked hard handling the freight herself as it showed in her tight ass and slim waist. She had a set of twin girls that I heard were beauty princess material and her two younger sisters were just as pretty as she was.

As Christi went over the list of last minute things to get done she asked everyone to work extra hard to finalize everything they could by Friday night so when the parade started on Sunday morning the three day event would run smoothly. The event which had been going on for years always started on Sunday, as Saturday was still a farm work day so as tradition would have it, Sunday was the starting day.

Christi concluded her list and asked if anyone had anything to add; and of course, everyone looked over at me. I stood and took my briefcase to the front and asked for Larry, Marcus, Harriet, Lunen, Pablo and Carton to come up to the front. All of them were plant division leaders and all had at least ten years of service in the plant. As I handed each one of them an envelope I said, "Everybody, in the envelope is five hundred dollars, in cash." "I want each one of you to use your own judgment and bid and buy an auction item at the fair, and I want you to spend the entire amount of money at the fair."

I pointed to Paul Strong, the purchasing agent and while I handed him an envelope, I said, "Paul, when you go to the town merchants tent, here is a list of things we need in the plant. I have signed ten checks for you; I want you to buy everything on that list from a local store."

There was a lot of noise and talking and I kind of raised my hand and said, "Look, we have forgotten we are part of this community and we need to take care of each other. I don't want everything that happened in here to be talked about, just quietly do what you have to do and make people happy." I got a few nods and some OK's and then when I added that everyone would have Friday off, with pay, to help out at the festival if they chose to, there was a thundering ruckus heard throughout the town.

I thanked everyone and headed back to my office where I found a note taped on my desk asking me to stop out that night to see the float before it got pulled to the parade site. There was a map and some directions and it told me to be there at five pm so I could eat dinner with the float committee.

I followed my map to the Tyre Farm Road and pulled off into the lane at the red barn. I parked my truck under a big oak tree and crossed the creek to the float building. A happy crew of five people was putting on the finishing touches of "Sunrie into the century" theme and I applauded and whistled as I walked in the barn and kept repeating over and over how nice the float looked.

Everyone was ready for a break and we headed out the back of the barn, over the fence to the shaded orchard where there were two picnic baskets with chicken, cold slaw, biscuits tea and cookies for everyone. I can't say when I had a more delightful time. Everyone kind of prodded me about my past, family history and what I thought about the plant.

After about an hour, the sky had clouded up and the wind increased and there was a bit of lighting in the sky. As we got back to the barn, the farmer who had so graciously let us use the barn must have come by and locked it up as we were away eating dinner. As it started to sprinkle, it kind of dawned on everyone real quick that all of their keys were locked in the barn and my truck was the only transportation in the open. We all made a dash for my truck and in the back seat slid the twins and Betty, with Belinda sliding in beside me and Bob riding shotgun. There was a bunch of laughter and a big sigh of relief as the clouds opened up and it poured and the wind blew and the lighting crashed. I got turned around and headed out onto the blacktop as Belinda, who was really sitting right against me, pointed out directions to drop everyone off.

I fiddled with the radio and the air conditioning, turning mainly to look at Belinda's tanned legs and her pussy outline in her terry cloth shorts. The rain had got her a wet and it highlighted her tits in her tight top, but as she would turn and talk and punch the radio buttons, she kept putting her hand on my leg right near my cock and slowly rubbing the inside of my thigh. I didn't think much of it with everyone else in the truck, and did my best to watch the road and peer through the hard pouring rain as I searched for the turn off for the twins.

It got dark really quick and I flicked on my headlights just in time to see the postal box that lead to the drive for the twins, the drive wound all the way to the back and I pulled up close to the door and they hopped out. To get out of the barn yard, I had to kind of turn my body around and look out the back, window as my side windows were all foggy from all of the people sitting in the truck. As I swung my arm over Belinda and turned sideways to look out the back, she turned to look out the drivers side window and her hand brushed and rubbed across my cock that was getting every larger in my shorts.

I got turned around and headed back down the lane and took a left turn to head to Betty's farm which was about a mile away, I dropped her off and then over to Bobs who lived in a small subdivision around a lake nestled in a huge growth of trees. As Bob got out, Belinda got on her knees on the front seat, pointing her ass at me and yelled good bye to Bob out the passenger side window. As I looked at her ass and legs, they made a perfect "V" slit right at her ass and it really focused my attention on her hot little body.

I got to the end of Bobs addition and Belinda slid right against me again, although there was plenty of room to sit in Bob's seat after he left. She put her hand on my leg and slowly ran here finger tips up and down my skin as she talked and pointed out landmarks as we headed to her house. The wind was still making the sheets of ran hit the truck at almost a horizontal angle and the combination of my air-conditioning and the outside air temperature kept fogging up the windows. I asked Belinda to look in the backseat for a rag or towel to wipe the windows and she turned and bent over the front seat with her ass sticking straight up in the air and her legs kind of dangling while her hand were busy trying to find something to wipe the windows with.

Not finding anything I had to drive slower on the road and just about missed the turn when Belinda said, "Turn right here." I slowed the truck, made the turn and drove about two hundred yards up the road when she said," turn left again." Belinda had slid over to the passenger seat and had taken off her shoes and socks while I was driving and had place them on the dashboard of the truck, my guess they were there to dry off a bit. Well, my last turn had placed me in a church parking lot and she directed me go around the side, stop, and back up, stop and dim my headlights.

As I did that, Belinda slid the passenger seat back and tilted it and then took off her top and unhooked her bra in one swift motion. I was till trying to put the truck in park and missed part of the show, but was staring right at her as she lifted her hips off the seat and pulled off her shorts and panties and folded them and placed them up on the dash. She then reached over to me, rubbed my cock through my shorts and said that she wanted to thank me for helping out with the parade float and that she knew that since I didn't have a girl friend that fucking her would be a real treat.