Tamil Akka Baduwa

My alcove and desk just happened to be adjacent to the Vice President's offices, and he had to pass me every time he entered or left. If I was on his hit list, my presence right under his nose had to rub him like a burr under the saddle of a working quarter horse.We were counting on it.Each time he walked past, I perked up, smiled, and said, "Good Morning Mr. Vice President." Later in the day I said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Vice President. And by late afternoon, I changed my greeting just a bit. "Good night Mr. Vice President."My cheerful demeanor and never ending courtesy would wear at him, IF he were our suspect. If not, then he was properly greeted more times than he thought necessary.What are you going to do?At lunchtime, Kate came to collect me and roll me to the White House dining room. She made a big fuss over how tired I appeared and insisted we stop while she checked my blood pressure, temperature, and oxygen saturation. Scores of White House employees saw that bit of medical. Naturally there was an unwritten law in school that under no circumstances would anybody accidentally rub or bump up against her in the hallway. Last year a kid named George stumbled against her and as the two of them fell to the floor his hand "accidentally" touched her thigh. George bragged to the entire school that he actually had his hand on Karen Whitley's leg, above her knee. My blood pressure went sky high just thinking about it. I can tell you, about 250 high school boys wish it had been their hand. That night I had one of thousands of "wet" dreams thinking about Karen Whitley and touching her thigh. I'll bet their was tons of male sperm wasted that night. The next day we were all brought back to reality when George showed up at school with two black eyes.Karen Whitley was a walking dream. She always wore clothes that showed off her curves. Skirts and dresses one size to small and a hint of perfume as she glided past. Once in English class, she was wearing a short light blue.
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