MILF came over to my desk yesterday, all smiles. "Good morning, Kilgore," she said. "When you're finished posting Friday's payments, can you bring them over to me? Also, I have a picture to show you."

"Sure," I said, hoping the picture involved MILF doing a Tawny Kitaen impression on the hood of a Ferrari. "I'll be right over."

I call her MILF because I want to fuck her. If she called right now and said, "Kilgore, can you come over? I need you to fuck me," I would move so fast that if you were standing by my door, you would observe a bluish tint to my features, due to the Doppler effect. MILF is in her mid-thirties, tall and slender, with long blond hair. She has the kind of eyes and figure that make men say, "You have beautiful eyes," while staring at her chest. She wears a great deal of makeup, but that's okay because she knows how to smear it around until she appears to be wearing no makeup at all. I only know she wears a lot of makeup because once she overslept and came to work with her facial flesh fully exposed. Once I recognized who she was, I asked her if she was feeling ill.

Anyway, I grabbed Friday's payments and went to MILF's cubicle. "Thank you, Kilgore," she said. Then she whipped out a large glossy photo of... of...

[Kilgore grimaces at the memory.]

... of her 11-year-old daughter, wearing garish pink blouse and pants, shod in high heels, reclining awkwardly and looking at the camera in a manner that might be called "seductive" by the type of man who hangs around elementary schools and drives a soundproofed van with no windows in the back. Someone had applied a great deal of makeup to the little girl's face, apparently in hopes of helping her land a role in Taxi Driver 2.

"Oh..." I said, trying not to squirm. "That's nice."

MILF beamed. "Neuroses Outlet graduated from model and etiquette school this weekend," she said, "and every one of the girls got to do a photo shoot like this!" She smiled, clearly wanting me to confirm the wonderfulness of teaching prepubescent girls that a female's best virtues really are physical beauty and feminine wiles.

"Yeah," I said, and cleared my throat. I didn't know what to say. I tried to look anywhere but at the photograph. MILF -- who is a genuinely kind (if confused) woman -- sensed my discomfort and took the photo away while changing the subject.

I won't add much here. Just... if you have a daughter, please put her on the soccer team or teach her how to play guitar or enroll her in drawing lessons. Play chess with her or show her how to derive the quadratic formula or whatever. Anything constructive would be fine, really. She has the rest of her life to worry about how she looks.

+posted by Lawrence @ 2/18/2004 11:01:00 PM