Story: The Job Interview. Part 4.

By Inanimate77

Amy was a little out of breath when she arrived at her new job. Looking down at her phone she noticed that she had just made it with about two minutes to spare. The college student took a moment to collect herself before ringing the doorbell.  While this might not be her dream job, she certainly did not want to make a bad first impression.

Once she had caught her breath, Amy rang the doorbell. Although Amy's things had already been moved into her room, her employer had insisted on this formality. It was supposed to signify the formal change in their relationship - the moment in which Susan officially became Amy's employer.

As Amy waited by the door, she had a brief moment of panic when she realized that she had not put the apron and cap back on. A flurry of activity quickly ensued as she frantically tried to fix her appearance before her new employer arrived at the door.

She had just managed to finish tying her apron when Susan opened the door. "You're right on time girl. I like punctuality in the help."

Amy was so discombobulated from her mad dash over that she didn't unpack what had just been said. She responded, "I’m ready and excited to get started.”

"Ma'am," Susan replied.

"Pardon?"

"I’m ready and excited to get started, Ma'am." Susan scolded her new employee. "You're in my service now. I will not tolerate any informality."

Amy bit her tongue and did her best not to roll her eyes. It was clear that the tone between them had officially changed. Whereas Susan had been almost warm with her the last couple of days, she was much more cold and formal now. "I'm sorry Ma'am. It will not happen again."

"I'm happy to hear that girl. You can also cal mel Ms. Alton. However, my preference is Ma'am."

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Good. It's important that we understand each other. Well at least you had the sense to arrive in uniform. My expectation is when you are on the clock, you're working." Susan paused for a moment as she looked Amy up and down. "Although I am surprised you elected to show up on my doorstep in such a disheveled state."

Amy didn't know what to say. She had only just gotten her uniform today. "Ma'am, I came over immediately upon receiving my uniforms."

"I see... so what you're telling me is that Stitch n'Time made all the adjustments, but didn't bother to press the uniforms."

"Ummm..." Amy struggled to come up with an explanation. "Look there was a lot going on in the shop when I got there."

"Well girl that is totally unacceptable. I paid for these uniforms and arranged the appointment. If they didn't deliver as requested, I will call them to get a refund."

Amy began to panic. "No Ma'am. Please, I'm sorry. I was running late after getting the uniforms and had to rush over here."

"So you were running late?"

"No, well not exactly, Ma'am."

Susan just glared at Amy. While there was not much size difference between the two women, Amy felt incredibly small as the older woman's eyes bore into her. "Yes or no girl. Were you running late?"

"Well yes, Ma'am, but."

"I guess I praised your punctuality just a bit too soon." Susan cut Amy off.

"No Ma'am, please give me a second to explain."

"I think you've had plenty of time to explain yourself, girl, and I must say the more your mouth runs the less impressed I am with you. Are you sure you really want this job?"

Things were beginning to spiral rapidly out of control as Amy felt completely out of her element. Everything she said only seemed to make matters worse. Usually she was incredibly confident, but every word out of her mouth only seemed to dig a bigger hole. Realizing things were only getting worse, she decided to cut her losses.

"You're right Ma'am. I was running late. I apologize for that. I really wanted to make an excellent impression today and unfortunately I still managed to mess up. I am very sorry for that."

Her employer was relishing every minute of this exchange, but you certainly couldn't tell that from her face. Susan's icy gaze remained transfixed on Amy who looked down at her feet, unable to look her employer in the eyes. "I see, girl," she spoke somewhat casually. "I'd like to give you a piece of advice before we proceed. If you and I ever get into another argument, I am always right. Do you know why, girl?"

Amy barely managed to whisper out, "why?"

"Because I'm the one in charge. I'm paying you. Your opinion or thoughts don't matter unless I explicitly ask for them, and even then, not really. You are a housemaid, and I suggest you get that in your head. Otherwise, you'll find yourself a former housemaid. Are we clear, girl?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Good well I was hoping to get you started in your new position, but this entire affair has only made matters worse. You look awful. I will simply not have unkempt help working in my home. There is an ironing board in the hall closet. I expect you to press your uniform before you begin with your chores."

Amy hesitantly walked over to the closet, hoping that her employer would give her some space. She had never ironed anything in her entire life. The last thing she wanted to do at this moment was further reveal her ignorance. Susan might just fire her on the spot. All Amy needed was a few minutes to pull up a YouTube video with a 'how to' video, but her employer continued to stand there watching her every action.

"My god girl, we don't have all day. I did have other things on my schedule today besides babysitting you."

Amy's heart sank as she quickly scanned the hallway closet, trying to find the ironing board. It was dark, cramped, and filled with various cleaning supplies, so it took her a few moments to locate it. When she finally found it, she fumbled with the metal legs, trying to figure out how to set it up. She had never ironed anything before, and the whole process seemed intimidating.

"Come on, girl, I don't have all day," Susan snapped at her, tapping her foot impatiently.

Amy's hands were shaking as she managed to get the ironing board set up. She grabbed the iron and plugged it in, hoping that it would heat up quickly. She could feel Susan's eyes on her, watching her every move. It was as if she was waiting for her to mess up again.

Then Amy simply stopped. She didn't know what to do. How was she supposed to iron the uniform that she was already wearing?  Susan seemed to detect the confusion. "Girl, what is the problem now?"

"Ma'am, I need to take off this uniform to iron it."

"So."

"Well I need to get undressed to do that." Amy flinched when she realized that she forgot to say Ma'am."

"Is that a problem, girl?"

This only seemed  to fluster Amy more. Did her employer really expect her to strip down right in front of her?  The day had started poorly and only seemed to go downhill from there.  Amy never could have imagined such a poor start to her new job.

Amy felt the tension continue to build.  Each second that passed felt like an eternity. Susan just stared at her.  Finally Amy realized that the woman was not going to provide her with any privacy.  With a sigh, Amy began to undress.  She could feel Susan's eyes on her as she slipped out of her uniform.  It was a humiliating experience, and she felt like crawling into a hole and disappearing.  Once she was down to her underwear, she carefully hung up her uniform and grabbed the iron.

Susan sighed as Amy stood in front of her in just her bra and panties. "I see that I am going to have to inspect you every day.  I assumed you were just wearing flesh colored hosiery, but clearly I was mistaken.  No servant in my house should ever be bare legged. It is simply unprofessional."

To some degree Amy was beyond the point of caring.  The comments were flying at her too quickly to properly process.  Part of her already felt like this job was already a lost cause and that she was going to be fired.  However, she knew her options were limited. It took all of her willpower to keep herself from breaking down in front of her employer as Amy began fumbling with the iron while standing in just her underwear.

Susan looked on, sporting an evil smirk. There had been moments when she questioned her decision to hire Amy.  With her busy schedule, she really needed to hire someone who was competent.  The professional woman really did not have time to train someone to satisfy her specific needs.  However, the enjoyment of constantly belittling the college student was going to be worth whatever hassle it took to get her up to speed.

As Amy clumsily ironed her uniform, Susan began to circle around her like a hawk. The older woman's eyes were fixed on Amy's every movement, scrutinizing her work.  The tension in the room was palpable, and Amy could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She was terrified that she was going to mess up again.

"You missed a spot," Susan remarked, pointing to a small wrinkle on the sleeve of Amy's uniform. "And don't forget to iron the collar."

Amy felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying her best, but it seemed like nothing she did was good enough for Susan. The older woman was relentless in her criticism, and Amy was starting to feel like she was going to crack under the pressure.

"Girl, I knew you lacked experience, but I didn't think that meant you had no idea how to iron a simple garment. You're ironing in the creases that you just fixed. If I didn't know better, I'd have to say this was your first time ironing anything."

Truth be told, this was the very first time that Amy had ever attempted to iron anything, but she was not about to admit that to Susan.  She focused on the job as her mind tried to come up with anything that she could say which might get the woman off her back. Finally she remembered something that her mother had taught her.

"Actually Ma'am, my mother taught me a trick when I was growing up."

"A trick?" Susan did not appear convinced.

"Yes Ma'am. Instead of ironing a garment, you put it in the dryer for ten minutes and then immediately hang it up. It works like a charm." Amy smiled, satisfied with her answer.

"You consider that a trick girl, girl? That is not how we do things around here. If you want to hang out with the best that society has to offer, you don't fake it.  You earn it." Susan shook her head with disgust before continuing. "I know Harvard is trying to promote diversity and inclusion, but they really need to offer more classes on how to function in society.  With all the schooling that you’ve received, your behavior is no different than the high school dropout struggling in a dead end job.  Perhaps this role is fitting for you after all."

Susan's words stung leaving Amy speechless. She didn't know what to say or do. All she wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come out. Her eyes were filling up with tears, and she tried to blink them away before Susan noticed.   But it was no use. Susan was already circling around her, inspecting her work once more.

"Here," Susan said, snatching the iron out of Amy's hand. "Let me show you how it's done."

Amy watched as Susan expertly ironed her uniform, her movements quick and precise. It was clear that she had done this many times before.  Amy couldn't help feeling jealous of Susan's confidence and competence.  She wished she could be like her.

"There," Susan said, handing the iron back to Amy. "That's how you do it."

Moments later, Susan took the garment of the board and began balling it up, causing it to wrinkle again.  She then looked directly at Amy and sternly said, "I expect you to keep trying until you get this uniform perfectly pressed. When you are confident that you have done it right, put it on and come find me for inspection.  If it does not meet my expectations, I will send you back to fix it and dock you a days pay.  I probably should already do this as you have wasted a significant amount of my  time, but I will give you this one chance to make it right. After all, it is your first day."

With that Amy walked away. She was smiling broadly as she headed up to her bedroom. The confident woman needed to deal with a tingling sensation that had developed in her intimate areas.

Amy fought back the tears as she returned to her work. Full of self doubt, she was already exhausted. It was going to be a long day.