Walking across a couple of blocks at quitting time lifted my spirits. I loved to catch guys eyeing me, those sideway glances. I knew that my tailored ...uit jacket and lacy camisole revealed enough cleavage. I could feel the short skirt hugging my generous ass. My long legs encased in stockings, walking on three-inch fuck me pumps completed the statement. I enjoyed everyone looking at me. It was my joy to be someone's fantasy pin-up. It was everything I had worked for over the years.I slipped. So we continued to look like a bunch of old farts dressed by a Salvation Army outlet store. Mac called it shabby chic, I called it our vagrant look. ‘Ten Minutes guys,’ came from Steve, nominally the stage manager at the club. ‘Be with you in five,’ I shouted out of habit. The others patently ignored my call. Mac still had a large portion of a pint to finish. Bobby was still cleaning his trumpet and oblivious to Steve’s call. The girls were huddled together, examining something on Holly’s. Oh yes, this is Mr. Bartley O’Connell,” I told Joe before turning to Bartley.“This is Joe, our assistant and general handy man,” I told him, as Bartley reached out to shake Joe’s hand. Joe was quite surprised by this, but shook hands with him.“Good to meet you,” Bartley said before asking, “Will either of you be riding along on the tractor with me?”“We could do that?” I asked in surprise.“Yes, we have a jump seat on all of our big tractors, so the youngsters can ride with us when they are old. Your parents would have had to sign the non-consent waiver opt-out forms by July fifteenth and then found a school nearby that would take you as a student. My guess is you are stuck with attending here and following the rules."I thought back to the summer and the people I saw having fun on the beach in their tiny swim suits. I admit I had looked at them and had disagreed with my parents about the 'sinfulness' of their flesh. God made flesh before he made clothes, and Adam and Eve were content.