$ X-NEWS: spcvxb alt.sex.stories: 1698K Relay-Version: VMS News - V6.0-3 14/03/90 VAX/VMS V5.5; site spcvxb.spc.edu  Path: spcvxb.spc.edu!rutgers!sun-barr!cs.utexas.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sol.ctr.columbia.edu!london.pilgrim.umass.edu!narkiewi Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories $ Subject: In All Fairness, 2340 words4 Message-ID: <1992Sep4.152503.14097@ctr.columbia.edu>= From: narkiewi@london.pilgrim.umass.edu (J. David Narkiewicz)  Date: 4 Sep 92 15:25:03 GMT : Sender: narkiewi@london.pilgrim.umass.edu (Jan Narkiewicz)$ Organization: Project Pilgrim, Umass' X-Posted-From: london.pilgrim.umass.edu & X-Posted-Through: sol.ctr.columbia.edu
 Lines: 307    1 	I wrote this because of the last story I posted, 5 "In HOT Pursuit of Safe Sex" which brought me over 20 : letters saying to keep up the good work.  Again, the story< posted has no sex in it but the word sexual is used 6 times,: the word sex twice, intercouse once, "making love" twice, * kiss twice, breast once and lesbian twice.    $ In all Fairness, J. David Narkiewicz    =      Every other college student in the greater D.C. area was B trying to get an internship with a member of Congress.  There were@ three ways to get such a position: have a well connected family,B pick up the soap in the congressman's shower or stick your nose in? a place I found olfactorily repulsive.  Besides, interning paid = crap compared to other government jobs.  I'd set my sights on : Custodial Assistant at the Capitol Building, search number A8042299625.  @      I'd decided a suit was not in order for my interview, but IB did go with a shirt and tie.  As I'd been instructed when informed@ of my interview, I walked through the gardens at the back of the> Capital Building until I reached the East door.  It was openedB before I could ring the bell.  I was greeted by three rather large? men in suits complete with little microphones in their ears and ( conspicuous bulges under their arm pits.  >      "Clark Thomas?" asked the tall black man who, amongst the three, seemed to be in charge.  >      "Yes," I stammered, feeling just a tad intimidated by the not-so-Secret Service.  A      "Identification," he demanded and I provided in triplicate.  A I was photographed, finger printed, metal detected and thankfully ? not cavity searched -- no job was worth that.  With a visitor's > pass clipped to my shirt pocket, I was personally guided to myB destination by two football types also draped in suits and wearingB sun glasses even though they were indoors.  They grunted for me to+ proceed through a set of huge double doors.   A      My fantasy of being interviewed in a decrepit boiler room by : an old codger with the name "Bubba" sewn on his shirt wereA quickly dispelled.  There were no less than ten people sitting at > a large wooden table, all ready to interview me.  Counting the9 camera man and the stenographer, complete with mysterious B stenographer type machine, I felt like Christ at the last supper. ? The difference here -- aside from the fact that I didn't have a F sixties lack-of-a-haircut and wasn't wearing a toga -- was that eight E of the disciples were female.  They all sat at the table and had that A "send chills down your spine" look I commonly attribute solely to  militant lesbians.  C      I stood there until the blue-rinse woman sitting in the middle = of the table spoke into her mike, "Good Morning, Mr. Thomas.  3 Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable."   =      I caught myself looking around behind me in search of my B father, Mr. Thomas.  Left with no one else to blame, I sat down atB a table of my own.  For comfort they'd provided a pitcher of water: and two glasses -- I was feeling more comfortable already.  G      With camera rolling and stenographer typing away, the blue-rinsed  ; woman, Congress woman Katrina "Kat" Schroeder, started with C my birth and asked me every conceivable question about my life.  It B got weird when she reached the part about the eighth grade dance. > "Did you take one Kimberly Campbell to your eighth grade dance when you were thirteen?"  >      "Yes, I did, ma'am."  I had no idea how any of this would< make me a better broom pusher, but bureaucracy was not to be. trifled with, especially at the federal level.  @      "During the course of the evening, did you say, and I quote? `I guess it was a date.  That means we're supposed to kiss good  night.'"  G      I just stared at her completely bewildered.  Schroeder didn't take > that as a response.  "Answer the questions, please," she said.  ?      "I guess I did," I stumbled.  That was seven years ago, as & if I'd remember exactly what I'd said.  5      "Ha!" she screeched causing one of my glasses to = shatter.  "So you confess to making sexual advances towards a A thirteen year old girl."  The other women at the table all nodded @ in agreement and murmured like an impassioned lynch mob.  Out ofA desperation, I turned to one of the men at the table hoping for a B glimmer of support.  It was only then that I recognized him as Ned@ "pants-around-the-ankles" Kennedy.  Since this had nothing to doC with a Congressional pay raise, he was staring at the ceiling doing  his best to ignore me.  B      Kat Schroeder had finished and promptly introduced, the right; honorable Anita Quill, Congresswoman and legal scholar from < Oklahoma.  She was one of those fat, intimidate you with her@ breath, black women.  At the snap of her sweaty black fingers anI intern-type entered the room carrying a sheet of paper.  It was deposited B on my desk.  From the way the intern walked, I could tell he was a type 2 intern.  C      Congresswoman Quill said, "Please, read the following letter.  > It shall be entered into the record as Piece of Evidence 94." @ Pieces of Evidence 1 through 93 were such epic and incriminatingB documents as my kindergarten report card which stated I worked andC played well with others and a detention I'd received in tenth grade B for not having my Spanish book covered --Muchas gracias para nada, Meastro Stewart.  A      As I read Piece of Evidence 94, I could feel my face turning > red.  This document dated back to when I worked as a volunteer9 during the last presidential campaign.  "Did you read the & letter?" demanded Congresswoman Quill.  !      "Yes, I did, Congresswoman."   ,      "That's Congressperson," she corrected.  F      Under my breath, I said, "If your ass were any tighter, you couldH use it to turn a piece of coal into a diamond?"  Of course, since there G was a microphone in front of me, the whisper became a shout and echoed  ? from every corner of the room.  "diamond, diamond, diamond..."    <      The congressperson just glared and asked, "Were you the author of this letter?"   7 	I'd long since given up on getting the job, but still, ; this was a question I'd gladly dodge.  "Well, the signature = isn't mine."  It certainly wasn't.  The letter was written on E stationary liberated from the presidential candidate I'd worked for.  = It was a form letter of sorts, blank save for the pre-printed D closing at the bottom complete with "God Bless," and the candidate's
 signature.:      "You didn't answer my question," Ms. Quill retorted. < "Maybe I should refresh your memory."  She put her librarian3 glasses on, picked up the letter and began reading:      	Dear Ms. Travis,   ?      		Knowing that I surely enjoy your support in the upcoming D 	election, I'd like to bring your attention to another issue of direB 	importance.  A campaign worker of mine, one Mr. Clark Thomas, has> 	been without your romantic companionship since you began yourB 	semester abroad in England.  During your three months hiatus, Mr.> 	Thomas has become -- to put it politely -- rather tense.  I'dC 	greatly appreciate if you might find it in your heart (among other @ 	parts of you anatomy, including those closest to your heart) to> 	relieve Mr. Thomas of his burdens.  With his upcoming trip toB 	England, I believe that you are in an excellent position to try a: 	variety of excellent position with my most loyal campaign 	working...     A      Completely dead pan and serious, Quill read the remainder of C the letter.  Needless to say, it became much more graphic includingN? the candidates reference to handcuffs, chocolate sauce and whippC cream.  When Quill finished, she placed her copy of the letter down!= and turned to me.  "Are you or are you not the author of saidu letter?"  A      "She was my girlfriend and it was a private correspondence,"p I defended.7  @      "So!  You admit it," Quill replied slapping her palm on the? table.  "You admit to proposing a variety of sexual acts with an9 woman in a foreign country and you completely ignored thec6 international implications of your sexual harassment."  <      "International?"  I asked.  "She was an American and my+ girlfriend.  We were intimate at the time."   ?      "So, you admit to having a sexual relationship with her, aa: member of the opposite sex.  A man making love to a woman! No!  Further!  Questions!"    B      Anna Richards, distinguished senator from Texas, was next.  I9 fended off several thousand more questions relating to my = "permanent record", including a spit ball incident during theeC third grade.  Then she brought out the big guns and asked, "In your - parent's home, what type of VCR do they own?"a  9 	Here it was, the buy American tirade.  "It's a Toshiba."k  ; 	"And what type of VCR did they have at the William Adam S. : Preston Junior High where you attended the seventh grade."  < 	"Shit," I thought to myself, having learned my lesson about/ muttering under my breath.  "It was a Toshiba.",  < 	Senator Richards knew my back was against the wall on this > one.  "And would you like to elaborate what happened when yourA seventh grade health class watched the film on sexual education."o  = 	"The VCR malfunctioned," I said with solemn sincerity.  Hey,h3 if politicians could gloss over the truth, I could.   ; 	The senator from Texas was not nearly satiated.  "And whatm" caused this supposed malfunction?"  9 	"My guess would be a series of encoded infrared pulses."   =      "This is a congressional hearing," she said coolly.  "We,< don't guess here.  And what caused those `infrared pulses.'"  8 	"Most likely some type of oscillator, a crystal, driven by a power source."   7 	"Enough of this tomfoolery!"  She whipped out a folderd> emblazoned with large black letters, "Clark Thomas's Permanent? Record."  She selected a page from the rather thick dossier andtB began to read: "During the documentary "Your Growing Body," Clark > [Thomas] used a remote control brought from home to freeze the> picture whenever a part of the female anatomy was shown and to@ fast forward through shots of the male anatomy..."  Richards putA the paper down and asked, "Should I go on.  Should I humiliate by ? announcing your sentence?" She paused and added snidely,  "One   week's detention."  : 	To fully appreciate what I'd done, you had to picture the: scene.  The frantic teacher trying to figure out the VCR's; controls as the tv was filled with a pair of breasts in an  B advanced stage of development.  The girls turning red and the boysF laughing.   I didn't bother to elaborate about how the vice principal E kept bursting out in laughter when he tried to lecture me.  I didn't tB tell her about the giggles that came from the conference the vice I principal had with my parents about the incident.  I didn't tell her how -I I was elected president of my class next year, selected as captain of my  D soccer team and the numerous other junior high type honors that wereA rained on me.  I simply said, "I am humbled by your revelations."f  ; 	She smiled smugly believe she had humiliated me beyond allt words.  "No further questions."   =      Senator Stan Nunn, an expert on the military and foreignw> affairs, was next.  At least he was a male interviewer.  AfterB taking a sip of water, clearing his throat, wiping his brow with aA handkerchief, loosening his tie, tightening his tie and strummingv= his fingers on the desk nervously while loosening his tie, hee) asked, "December 7, 1941 where were you?"n  ;      That was a simply one to answer.  "I wasn't born yet."d  A      "So you had no fore-knowledge of Japan's impending attack on ; Pearl Harbor?" he ventured but not without some hesitation.t  "      "Obviously not," I responded.  =      He quickly terminated his portion of the interview.  "Nof9 further questions."  He and old "pants around the ankles"a< celebrated their victory by giving each other a nervous half smile.  ?      To say I'd gotten annoyed at the entire proceedings was ana> understatement.  Congresswoman Bethanne Dole was next.  "Is it> true that you had intercourse with a woman named Sherry Hewson= after you'd offered her temporary lodging in your apartment?"d  =      I could feel the wisps of steam coming from my ears as In@ glared Ms. Dole.  I could really care about my first kiss in theA eighth grade or spitballs in the third grade.  Sherry was a taboomA subject.  In my best imitation of a "send chills down your spine"e@ militant lesbian reaction, I responded, "She and I were lovers."  >      Dole shuffled her notes trying to thwart off my "if looks@ could kill" glare.  "After engaging in sexual relations with Ms.C Hewson, did you not then assault her only sibling while she and hert mother watched?"  @      "That's it!" I shouted standing up.  "Sherry and I had beenA on two or three dates.  No big deal.  Then she calls me one night A in tears and says her brother has beaten her up, again.  So I lethB her stay and yes, we made love.  But if your courts had kicked herB brother out of the house, the first or fifth time he'd beaten her B up, Sherry wouldn't have been at my place having consenting sex.  D No, he was a minor and the courts refused remove him from the home."  C      All ten of them were silent.  The clicking of the stenographert? had stopped and only myself and the hum of the camera continuedr= unabated.  "After she found a place of her own, I went to heroB house to help her move.  Her brother picked a fight and I finishedA it.  Christ, Sherry's mom even took me out to dinner to say thank. you."   C      Meanwhile, in the boiler room in the basement, the most recenthC Supreme Court nominee, also named Clark Thomas, sat talking with ans? old coot wearing a shirt with the name "Dutch" sewn on it.  "DooA you know how to use a mop ringer?" choked Dutch as lit up anotherh unfiltered Marlborough.   A      Nominee Clark Thomas solemnly replied, "Although I'd like toh< answer that at this time, I cannot venture an opinion on the matter."  B      Meanwhile over in the White House, the President sat back and; smiled, knowing that long as his nominee, Clark Thomas, wasd> currently being interviewed by Dutch, a man who'd inhaled pure< ammonia on a daily basis for the last fifty years.  This was@ destine to be the easiest confirmation hearing in the history ofE the Supreme Court.  The President was not completely oblivious to theyF plight of Clark Thomas, twenty year old college student in search of aE summer job.  After being grilled by the congressional committee, the aB President planned on rewarding young Clark by having him appointed as a congressional intern.