Class 101❖Jeff Winger

These Boots Are Made For Walkin' || twenty-five

Lou's Perspective

November 30, 2011

"Hi, I'd like to schedule a time to talk to Dean Pelton about the job opening in the office?" I asked the woman at the admissions office desk.

"Oh, honey. Are you sure you want to do that? I'm only here until they hire a new one, and it's been a ride," she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I need a job," I admitted, looking down at my twiddling thumbs.

"Name?" she sighed, scooting over and typing on the keyboard.

"Ellouise Whitley."

She scrolled for a minute, her typing increasing in speed until she stopped and looked up at me with a smile. She turned the computer monitor towards me, showing me a note made to my online file.

This student terrifies me. Please give a five-minute warning before letting her into my office.

- Dean Pelton

"Play along," she whispered as she stood up and walked over to his closed office doors. She took a deep breath before slamming the doors open and motioning for me to walk in.

"Agnes! What on earth," Dean Pelton stood up, the color draining from his face as I softly pushed Agnes aside and stomped into the room. He shrieked, "Oh my God, it's happening!"

"I'm so sorry, Craig. I couldn't stop her. She demanded to see you," Agnes said, tearing up. He froze in fear, unsure of what to say. After a moment, he began screaming.

Agnes broke out into laughter, causing me to follow suit. The Dean stopped shrieking, his glance switching between both of us with looks of accusal. He put his hands on his hips and demanded, "What the dean is going on here? Did you not read the note? This woman terrifies me, and the power she exudes is unmatched, Agnes!"

"Yes, I read the note. Miss Whitley wants to apply for the open administrative assistant position, and I wanted to give her a taste of the power she'd have. I'll leave you two to it," Agnes chuckled, closing the door behind her as she walked out.

"You want to be my assistant? I thought you were moving to Indiana," Dean Pelton asked, cautiously sitting back down behind his desk.

"I've had a change of interest. I have people here who are more important to me. No matter what enlightening experiences may await me in Indiana, I'd rather take my chances here. And that means possibly being your assistant," I explained, sitting down across from him.

"Oh, you have the job. I've seen your grades, and I know you'll work hard. More importantly, I've heard through the grapevine you're now dating one Jeffrey Winger," he winked, resting his head on his hands and trying to smirk. He was honestly an adorable man, even when he was being a little weird.

"Yeah, I am," I laughed. A look of confusion spread across my face, unsure of why that would impact anything.

"Well, having you as my assistant means Jeffrey will come along more. That's a win for me, and the job is a win for you. You'll officially start next semester. Since you're enrolled, we have to wait until you're graduated since you'll have access to everyone's files," he explained as he stood up and walked over to one of his filing cabinets. He rummaged through one for a second, a few odd hats being thrown out until he pulled out a file. He handed it to me and sat on the corner of his desk, waiting for me to look through it.

I flipped through the folder, the main contents being clothing measurements and sizes, along with places to find sewing patterns. "What's this? I don't understand," I asked, looking up and shaking my head.