I was on my way out when a small monochrome ad caught my eye:

=============================================================
LOW PAY!  LONG HOURS!  VERY LITTLE RESPECT!
Okay, you've made it this far... Here's the deal: The YMCA of Beech Creek
needs an intern in their business office.  We can't pay much, you'll work a lot and
most people will not understand what you're doing.  BUT, you get a free summer
membership to the "Y" and you get some experience.  Must have a sense of
humor.  If interested, submit your application to J. Hodges...
=============================================================

If nothing else the humor in the ad caught me. And it seemed to fit my mood and personality at the moment. I wasn't worried about the money - I had a full ride. And hell, I'd probably get the same amount of respect and hours just about anywhere and NOT have a free membership to a "Y." I thought about that for a moment. My experience with the Y was pretty minimal - mostly TV and "The Village People." I imagined a dingy, run-down place with obsolete equipment and God knew what for members. But then again, why not? It WAS a job. And as the saying goes, "Joel, every now and then, you just got to say, 'What the fuck! What the fuck, Joel, there's your freedom!'" Since my name was (and still is) Joel, I followed my brain, with its amazing ability to recall obscure things, like a quote from the movie "Risky Business." I sent my resume to the Y and six other companies. Four weeks, three interviews and no job later, I'd all but forgotten the Y.

Then I got the call. "Mr. Harris?" The raspy voice asked after I answered the phone one evening.

"Yes?" I asked hesitatingly, expecting a solicitation call.

"Mr. Harris, this is Jackie Hodges, of the Beech Creek YMCA. You sent us your information a while back. Are you still interested in the internship?"

She was to the point that was for sure. No small talk for this lady. "Yes, I am. Can you tell me some more about the position?" I asked, feeling caught off-guard for an interview.

"What do you need to know? It's an internship. You'll help manage the Y's finances and do whatever else needs to be done. Enough?" She was abrupt to the point of being rude.

"Well," I hesitated not knowing what to ask, "Will I have the opportunity to see the working environment before I accept?"

She laughed loudly into the phone. I pulled the receiver away as she hee-hawed into my ear. "No. That would cost money. We don't have money, remember the card ad? Listen, you have some financial background and quite honestly, only one of two to apply. The other guy is sitting in jail. So, you're it. You want the job or what?"

Put off by her attitude but remembering the ad I said to her, "Yes. I'll take it. Just let me know when you need me and where I should be when." I surprised myself by saying yes, but something was pulling me toward this job. Call it Karma. Call it Fate. Call it Desperation. Doesn't matter in the end, as you'll soon read.

"I'll send you a packet of info, okay?" She said, clearly wanting to terminate the conversation.

"Yeah, fine. Fine. And thanks," I replied. She hung up without saying goodbye.

I grabbed a beer from the fridge, sat down in my beat-up chaise and yelled to no one in particular, "What the FUCK did I just agree to?" I followed that beer with three more. And some Fritos. Dinner in celebration of my new 'Job.'

Two weeks later I drove to Beech Creek to start my internship. As I pulled up to the Y I was very surprised at the condition of the building and grounds. Everything was immaculate. The bushes were well manicured, the grass neatly cut and the soccer goals in the large field out back looked brand new. It looked like a country club! I parked in a spot off the side and went to meet my new boss. The building was a deep red brick and the front had large, full-length windows that let in an abundance of sunlight. Off to the right side I could see an exercise room with stair-step, rowing and stationary bike machines. All looked brand new. I was impressed.

At the front desk I introduced myself to a very cute girl, late high school, early college I was guessing, who greeted me warmly. "We've been expecting you, Mr. Harris! Welcome!" Her bubbly personality, deep blue eyes and blond hair pulled back into a ponytail gave me an instant erection. It didn't hurt that she wearing the tightest spandex shorts and sports bra I'd ever seen. Her name was Amy and she was the front desk manager. She was also the "Dolphins" swim coach, the 14 and older group. She explained that she also coached the "Minnows" (10 to 13 year-olds). I asked about the overlap in ages and she explained that experience and acceptance determined the jump to the next level. Not all the Minnows became Dolphins, she exclaimed solemnly. I wondered what that was about but decided not to pursue it now. She talked about other things I can't remember; I was so mesmerized with her. She escorted me down several hallways and as we walked I commented about the well-kept grounds and equipment.

"Yeah, it used to be a country club, in the old days," she said without sarcasm. "When this town rocked, companies supported this place like you wouldn't believe. They still help, of course, but it's gotten harder in the last several years."

We finally reached the office area in the back of the building. Amy peeked into one office and seeing nobody there, showed me to my office. My jaw nearly hit the ground as I walked in: There was a huge oak desk, oak bookshelves along one wall, a small table with two chairs in the corner and the back wall was all windows that looked over a beautiful garden.

"Pretty nice, huh?" said Amy, grinning at my reaction. "Thought you'd be stuck in a boiler room, maybe?"

I nodded. "Pretty close. I figured that it'd be some little cube or something. This is great!"

"Glad you like it," she continued, "get your stuff put away and I'll find Ms. Hodges." She left me alone in my new office and closed the door behind her. I only had a small canvas briefcase full of things. I emptied it out, putting my legal pads on one corner, my pens and highlighters in the drawer and two small books on the cavernous bookshelves. "Looks stupid!" I said to myself, looking at the books.

"That's okay, we'll get your shelves filled in no time," a voice said from behind me. I nearly hit the ceiling in surprise and quickly turned around to face the voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Harris," said the older, slightly plump woman. "I'm Ms. Hodges."

"Hello," I said enthusiastically to my benefactor, extending my hand to shake hers. She shook my hand firmly. "Please call me Joel."

She nodded, but didn't offer the same courtesy of name familiarity to me. "I trust everything is alright with your office?"

I nodded, studying my boss a closer. She was probably forty or so and slightly heavy. Not fat, really, but not svelte. She had firm, large breasts that were mostly concealed under her sweatshirt. Her face was pleasant, with high cheekbones and dark brown eyes that complimented her shoulder-length auburn hair. Her teeth were remarkably straight and her stare was intense. In a nutshell, she was athletic, butch almost. The fleeting thought of lesbianism passed my mind, but I scolded myself for thinking it.

"Good," she continued. "You'll have to dump the suit and tie though, doesn't really mesh with the Y's dress code. She smiled as she said it and I gave a sheepish shrug......(cont)