Go to the boss

I'm in wardrobe at the TV station at the time, trying out some new looks. I want to pull off a look somewhere between boring-reporter and club-slut but having a hard time hitting the middle ground. The text message hits me hard. Of course, as a pretty young blonde, I'm used to more than my share of attention from black men, but all of it is unwanted. I'm not attracted to them, and the sense of grievance and entitlement here is a big reason why. Seems they just don't take no for an answer.

I decide this is somehow work-related, an opportunity to bully the new girl into giving up on her dream or making her do something she would always regret. I storm out of wardrobe, looking around intently for someone watching me or laughing, but I don't see anything right away. Then, fired up with indignation, I decide to go to the boss. After getting past his receptionist, ("Mr. Rothstein, it's Ashley Smeets, she says it urgent"), I'm in.

He listens to me patiently, with the faintest hint of a smile, as I make a couple of attempts to explain that I know black men want me. Only gradually do I realize the white low-cut sleeveless blouse and tan skirt I'm wearing show off my natural curves but don't help with this. Also I forgot to bring my phone. Finally, I ask, "Um, what do you know about white slavery, Mr. Rothstein?"

"Are you serious, Ashley?" Having got his attention, I smile and nod.

"White girls **** against their will to serve black men," I intone, leaning forward and putting my hands on his desk. "Now here's a news story for you: What if it happened to me?"

His eyes are wide as he obviously contemplates it. "Okay, wow," he says. "I'll check with the legal department, draft up the releases and whatnot. I like it alot, just let Maria know what you need."

Rothstein picks up the phone, signalling our meeting is over. I walk to the door, a little confused about what just happened, and turn around, "This could really happen," I say, hands on my hips. "Black men fucking me no matter what I say or do!"

"You sold me, Ashley!" he interrupts with a wince. "Let me help this story happen!"

I return to my desk, still a little unclear what just happened, but gratified that at least the boss knows. I start doing writing a report draft when somebody shows up from legal with a big contract. It's alot of complicated legal language, but it looks like Rothstein wants me to do an expose on the threat of white slavery, and has included a pretty nice incentive bonus to sign away the rights to him. Happy I could turn this into a positive, I gladly sign where I need to.