Customer electronics in the form of computers, digital cameras, and even TVs have become so complicated that the average person does not even know how to set one up after they have bought it. And the no-help instruction books seem to have been written in a foreign country—which they probably were.
After graduating from a community college with a business degree, rather than go to work for someone else, I wanted to make a lot of money for myself by becoming an entrepreneur. And I could see the need for a new business in the world of complicated home electronics.
I borrowed a couple of thousand dollars from my family, rented office space in a business park, and hired a half dozen computer "nerds" right out of high school. Because of their passion for electronics, they knew everything about computers, digital cameras, and TVs. And the instruction books were no mystery for them. They could set anything up; they could fix anything. Since they had no college credentials, I was able to hire them for $15 an hour, which they considered to be "good money." Then I advertised my business and rented them out at $50 an hour to people who were mystified by their electronics. In a short time, I was rolling in money and was able to hire another six nerds.
The only well-paid employee I had, other than myself of course, was Jeff Danvers, who was schooled in the art of advertising, marketing, publicity, and public relations. He was about forty and based on the picture that was on his desk, he had a lovely wife and an even lovelier daughter. He told me her name was April, and that she was getting ready to graduate from high school.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Jeff asked, coming into my office one day.
"Of course."
"I was just reading this article in the paper. Do you know what 'Bring Your Daughter to Work Day' is?"
"I think I've heard of it."
"I don't know who started it, but it's a cute idea, and I was wondering if I could bring April in tomorrow? I would love her to see what we do here."
"Sure, that would be fine."
"And I have one other thing to ask. April will be graduating from high school in two weeks. She's planning to go on to the state university, but she's looking for a job for the summer and not having much luck. I was wondering if there was any chance we could put her to work here, as an intern or something?"
I smiled. "I guess we could make room for her and find some things for her to do. What's the minimum wage now?"
"Six-fifty."
"How about we pay her seven-fifty for six hours a day, five days a week?"
"That would be wonderful. We both would appreciate it."
But I found that no one was going to appreciate it more than I.
April came to work two weeks later, and she was even more beautiful than I had guessed. She was about five-foot-six, 110 pounds, had the figure of a young gymnast, and had long brown hair and a sweet innocent smile. I don't know how innocent she really was, probably not completely considering what I had read about high school girls today. So since she probably was not a virgin, I began to wonder how I might be able to pluck what was left of her innocence—without her daddy finding out of course.
I came up with a plan, ingenious if I do say so myself.
"April, could I see you for a few minutes after work today?" I asked her one day when her father was out of town on a sales trip.
"Sure. I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"No, of course not. I just want to talk to you."
"Okay."
The work hours at our company were a generous 8-4 with one hour off for lunch. So at 4:10, when everyone else had left, April came into my office.
"Sit down, April," I invited.
She sat in the chair across from my desk.