I had hurt my foot and needed some help with cutting the grass and some light house work. I found an ad in the local paper for a grass cutting service. I contacted the service and asked if they had any female employees, not wanting a strange man around the house while I was having a problem. They offered to send a girl over and if I was happy they would offer me a contract to take care of the yard on a monthly basis.
Mostly it was cutting the grass, trimming around the edges, and cleaning the walks so grass would not track in the house. A few hours later a pick up truck came by with a lawn mower and some accessories. The driver was blonde, wearing those shorts with a ton of pockets and a tank top.
She rang my bell and introduced herself as Candi and wanted to be sure that she had the right house. We talked briefly and discussed yard hazards to make sure there were no hidden objects such as water meters or gas meters that might cause a problem. It was hard not to notice her long legs as well as the fullness under her shirt. I went back to working on balancing my checkbook and other chores as she went to work.
It was one of those God awful days when humidity and temperature creeped towards 100%. I was comfortable inside with a Hawaiian style print shirt and jean shorts. Occasionally I would see Candi pass close by and watch as she drove by on what is called a zero turn mower that has two levers to steer with instead of a wheel. The way she bounced over bumps in the yard gave her shirt a little motion that was rather curious after not being able to get out and about for a while.
Sweat dripped here and there and gave a good outline of her full firmness while she mowed. I felt bad that she had to suffer the heat but was glad it wasn’t me. I never have worried too much about another person’s job and its difficulties. Everyone chooses an occupation and accepts the good with the bad.
About an hour later she rang the bell again needing her work ticket signed that she had been there and the job was acceptable for future billing. As I looked at her in the air conditioning of my house I really felt bad for some reason. She was quite red and quite wet from sweating. She looked like she was on the verge of heart stroke.
I invited her to the kitchen and offered her some ice water, hoping to avert any sickness. She accepted the water and sat at the breakfast bar on one of the stools. It was hard not to notice her long legs and imagine what she may look like if she was not working.
As we talked I found out that I was her last customer of the day, that her water cooler had fallen off the truck at an earlier job and had worked several hours without water.