I have much to do this morning all of which rotates about my getting a very large box containing two of my paintings to the FedEx center so that they may be shipped to a gallery in Charlotte in time for it's Grand Opening on Friday.
Lets look at this instead...
I may have posted this weirdness once before, but every time I run across the image of this post card I have to stop and take it all in. Is this a real secretary? If so, where the hell is she? Where would one find an office like that? Perhaps a chicken processing factory or an illegal sweat shop located in some forgotten town deep in the Mid-West. Does her face reflect an expression of eagerness or desperation? Perhaps this is the result of a blind date gone bad - "now, I want you to sit over there and answer my phone".
She could be one of those unfortunate victims of those evil hypnotists that plagued B movies of the 1950's. Perhaps when she answered the phone, a dark and raspy voice uttered some strange word that threw her into a deep trance.
You can almost hear her monotone voice speaking "Yes, master. I hear and obey. Must open safe.". Then again, perhaps she is the Principal's secretary at Lake Wannanugga High and she is defiantly phoning the police with a fresh list of the town hooligans who just hurled two dozen rotten eggs at her 1962 Ford Fairlane.
We may never know the secrets offered to us by Gertrude, Eunice, Orvilina, or whatever her name happens to be. We can only guess. Which makes it much more fun.
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