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Melissa P.

September 4, 2004

So Melissa, I don’t know her very well. See, she started *counts mentally* *gives up* I dunno, around the first of August. Worked a week of days getting trained by Jamie H. (he’s another story entierly, but I daren’t say it here) before switching to nights. She worked a week of nights, and then I went on vacation for a week. So we’ve worked together for three weeks.
Still, I have to say, she’s pretty cool. She’s a little slip of a girl, well okay I ought to revise that sentence. She’s 21, so I can hardly call her a girl, and she’s prolly 5.9 so I shouldn’t discribe her so small. But still. She’s a little slip of a girl with a thin waiste and thin red/brown hair. Some days she comes in dressed to kill in the most fashionable of what’s out there. Some days she’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans.
The cool thing about Melissa is her truck. She drives a truck even bigger than Jeff’s, which is saying something. It’s this huge blue monster with a sign on the side for the business she and her fiance run, “Sign Language”. And when I say huge, I mean it. It’s the sort with the monster-truck type tires. Absolutely fantastic. And this little slip of a girl drives it.
She used to work in the electronics department at Staples, and people used to ask for a guy to help them around, even though she was perfectly capable. She’d nonchalantly go get a male from another department, and when asked a question, the guy would say something along the lines of “Hell if I know. Melissa’s the computer expert!” Even Pat’ll admit she knows a lot about computers. He’s got her pegged to take over IT work when he’s a grownup and no longer does stuff for Dad.
She also is a fan of Barcardi Silver.

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