Amanda starts a new job

Monday.

The first day in a new job…

Everyone is slightly nervous on their first day in a new job. Amanda was no exception. Not massively nervous – no reason to be, Just the vague threat of the new. After all – this was job was not going to be that challenging to her. She was not going to be a PA to a high flyting executive – although that would be her top choice. Not an office manager. No senior position. Amanda’s new job was a receptionist. Something she thought she could do with her eyes shut. At her age she had enough experience to get by in this sort of job. And that was the sort of job she was looking for now. Nothing too stretching. Hours that were flexible – she needed that for the kids. Handy for home – a 5 minute drive was all that was needed. And enough pocket money to allow her to treat her family, and herself, to the odd treat.
Amanda’s car drew into the parking lot and she pulled into one of the staff bays. Her car – like her home was spotlessly clean and gleamed in the sunlight. She was dressed in a smart summer dress, pale blue, belted around the waist. Not too short, but not frumpishly long. Heels, of course,as always. Her makeup was tasteful and not overdone, and her hair was tied up – just the odd curl hanging down coquettishly over her face. Not entirely sure of what was expected, she had gone for a simple French polish for her finger nails.
She felt confident. Her only nerves were caused by her slight inability to remember exactly what she’d said at the interview. Like most people she had exaggerated her experience slightly during the interview. Exaggerated, not lied. Well not quite. Not that there were too many technical questions. Just a few questions aimed at finding out whether she was a friend to domesticated animals. She’d lied a little about thet cats and other pets her parents had when she was young, and gushed over stories of encounters with firends dogs (mostly imagined). Maybe she’d gone a bit over the top, but what the hell – she was only there for a job as a receptionist at the local vetinary surgey ! What did it matter if she didn’t really give a shit about animals ? Her job was to be booking people in for appointments and handing out the over-priced bills. She would probably not even have to look at the animals – that was the plan, anyway.
Amanda had arrived early – and was surprised at how few other staff seemed to be around. Phones were ringing – the first patients were arriving. A mild appearance of chaos. She was welcomed by Dr G, and given a whirlwind tour of the reception area, the phone system, the computerised booking system. No problems, and in a short while Amanda restored order to the surgery. She was so efficient she even surprised herself. It was going well. All clients (and patients) were greeted with a smile, and left feeling better.
And so it contiued for a few days . Amanda soon felt at home in the surgery – despite feeling slightly uncomfortable around some of the animals.

———— o O o —————–

Friday.

Amanda had just arrived and seated herself at her desk. There were a couple of messages on the answering machine. Amanda picked up her pen and notepad to take the messages. The first was a garbled call from Mrs Brown- she wanted to bring her ‘boy’ Prince in to see the ‘doctor’ – the poor darling was sufering from some sort of swelling – all terribly urgent. Fortunately for poor Prince the first appointment slot with Dr G was free. Or mabe not – the second message on the answerphone was from Miss Thomas, Dr G’s young vetinary assistant. She was going through a domestic crisis with her baby daughter – the childminder hadn’t shown up – she would be very late – probably not in until lunchtime at the earliest. Somewhat concerned Amanda studied the mornings appointments, then left her desk and went into the consulting room to bring the bad news to the doctor.
‘Oh dear, oh dear’, he mused. ‘How many patients do we have booked in for the morning ?’
Having anticipated the question Amanda had brought a scribbled list in with her.
‘Five, and the first is due in 5 minutes…’
‘Shit’, hissed Dr G under his breath. Then, ‘Amanda, I wonder if I could prevail on you to do me a BIG favor ?’
‘Sure’, said Amanda – keen to ingratiate herself with her new employer – ‘Want me to call round and cancel them all ?’
‘No – I don’t want to cancel if we can help it’. He was speaking more out of concern for lost fees than out of concern for the animals health. ‘I was wondering if maybe you could help out by acting as assistant as well as receptionist for the morning ? Nothing too strenuous – just a little bit of pet-minding. Don’t want to look like we are under-staffed, do we ?’
She was just about to turn down the request, but before she could frame the refusal without sounding unco-operative, the doctor continued, ‘I will of course pay you at double rate for today…’
Amanda did a quick bit of mental arithmetic. Just yesterday afternoon she had seen a rather smart pair of pumps – black patent leather, metallic heels…
‘Where can I find a spare overall ?’
‘That’s my girl !’. Dr G breathed a sigh of relief, ‘The jackets are in the closet over there. Better move – first patient in 2 minutes !’
Amanda hunted out a white full length overall, anxious to ensure her dress was covered as far as possible. Unfortunately, Miss Thomas was somewhat willowy and Amanda could hardly fasten the overall around her ample bosom. Rather than emphasise her bustline by fastening the overall half way up, she was forced to leave it open. No time to worry – Mrs Brown was already ringing the bell at the reception desk.
Mrs Brown – concerned as she was for the health of her dog – also had shopping on her mind, and wanted to leave Prince at the surgey while she popped out for a little retail therapy. She would be picking him up in about 40 minutes. She handed Prince’s lead to Amanda, turned, and was gone.
Prince was a boxer. A large boxer. Thick set, sturdy, downright ugly. A true heavyweight. Not fat. Just BIG.
Have you ever walked down the street behind a Boxer dog ? Is it their short, almost non-existent tails – or the muscular thighs set close together – that pushes the testicles back and exposes them to the onlookers gaze ? The ball-sack sways from side to side as they waddle along. In some cases it can be quite an awesome sight. Prince was no exception.
Amanda lead Prince in to the consulting room – or rather Prince led Amanda, as he went ahead straining at the leash. Yes, he was a very strong dog.
‘This is Prince’, announced Amanda.
‘And what seems to be his trouble ?’ enquired Dr G.
With her free hand Amanda raised his file to read the notes.
‘Prince seems to be suffering from swelling. Er, swelling of, mmmm’. Amanda hesitated for a second. ‘Swelling of the testicles, Doctor’.
It was true. As she’d walked in behind the dog her eyes had been glued to the specatcle of his two tennis-ball sized glands literally bouncing agianst his buttocks as he walked. It was a painful sight to witness.
‘Better get him up on the bench then’ said Dr G. encouraging Prince up onto the examination table.
Standing there, his face was almost level with Amanda’s, he turned and glowered at her. he didn’t look like a dog who was used to being told what to do.
‘Oh my, oh my’, exclaimed Dr G as he moved round to the rear to get a better view of the dog’s predicament.