“Look here” she said. She pulled out her ID card from the firm. It had her name and picture on it. The picture looked like it was of her older sister or mother, except for the hair color. Erica was pictured in a business suit from the shoulders up, her hair was done up nicely and she had make up on. She looked to be in her early 20s, and very pretty.
“When I started, Mandy and Judy, they’re some of the older interns, put make up on me and did my hair after work” she said. “They said I had to do make up just right or I’ll look trampy”. “Too little is better than too much” she added.
Changing the subject, I told her “Clothes out here are part of a code too, you know”. “You’ll have to trust me on this, I wont steer you wrong”.
“I trust you”. she said.
“OK, first thing is, This is different than living in city or working in a law firm, you’ll need boots to protect your feet, jeans and a long sleeve shirt or you’ll regret it”. I said. “You’ll need a hat, out here it’s not fashionable, but survival”.
“Ok” she said.
“Also, you need real underwear, you’ll chafe to death and be useless to me if you can’t even walk”. “Those g-strings are pretty, and I’m sure they’re OK in an office setting, but you’ll have to trust me”.
“They’re not g-strings, I wear thongs”. she said. I just looked at her. “OK” she said.
We pulled up to tractor supply and parked. I turned Erica loose for a few minutes to explore and walked over to the clothing section. I met with Elaine, a nice older lady that knew my measurements by heart.
We talked a bit and I told her I needed to set up my niece for work on the ranch.
Erica came up as we spoke.
“So this is the city girl ? Elaine said.
“I’m Erica, and you are…? said Erica, as she held her hand out.
“Mrs. Spivey”. as they shook hands.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Spivey”. “Evidently, I need clothes”. She said, as she nodded conspicuously towards me.
“I’d say so”, Elaine said, as she checked out what Erica was wearing. “You don’t have to dress like a man nowadays, but you have to dress for life on a ranch, so I’ll help you pick out what you need” Elaine said. She gave me a smile and took Erica by the shoulder and disappeared into the back of the store. I sat down and waited.
After what seemed like an hour, they reappeared carrying about a metric ton of clothing.
“OK, we’ve got 5 pair wrangler 32×30 ladies cut, in indigo and black, she was a little too tight in the caboose for the 28’s she thought she wore” Elaine said and added conspiratorially “This’ll keep her ass crack from showing when she bends over”. I found myself thinking that Erica’s ass crack wouldn’t look so bad…
She continued, “I’ve got 5 long sleeve cotton shirts that Erica picked out, a pair of Justin size 8 medium ropers, shoulder cut, rubber sole”. “You know you don’t need to have the leather sole on a boot anymore, Uncle”. She said. “The rubber is long lasting and there’s no break-in like yours”. “A ten pack of extra thick, padded socks, cotton, various colors”. “And finally”, she beamed, “A very nice 20XX grey felt hat, cattlemen’s cut, in size 6 and 3/4”.
Erica was wearing most of her new clothes and was busy folding the rest when Elaine pulled me aside. “You know she’s only blossomed a year ago and she says her only bra is so tight it hurts her to wear it” Elaine said in concern.
That explains that, Moms’ probably too busy to bra shop.
Elaine added, “She’s a perfect “B” cup and about a 33, she needs to buy a 34 or she’ll be spilling out of it in a year”. “When she grows out of that baby-fat. she’ll be a real looker” Elaine said with a wink. She added “She knows what to buy when you go to walmart, I’ve told her, satin or cotton or just a sports bra that’s not too tight, don’t get anything else or she’ll be sorry”. “You can let her pick out the pretty stuff too, you know, it doesn’t have to look like prison garb” Elaine scolded me.
OK, OK I get it, jesus…I was getting wood with all this bra talk, imagining Erica modeling her underwear for me. I’m scum.
Elaine whispered “She needs to stop buy the sundries too, You know, toothbrush, deodorant… other things as well”. I knew what Elaine meant, tampons. “Poor thing says she didn’t have a lot of time to pack for her trip”.
We rang up and used mom’s credit card number over the phone for Erica’s clothes. Erica had pulled her long brown hair back to wear her hat and she looked gorgeous. Like a presentable young lady that any man would be proud to be seen with. Boots, jeans, pink belt, light blue plaid shirt with white pearl snaps and her hat that fit her well. Some people buy a hat that looks too big or too small and they look like a cartoon figure. Erica was perfectly outfitted and happy about her clothes, thank god for Mrs. Spivey.
At walmart, things went well. Erica insisted on using her money for her clothes. Erica looked at bras and sized them up. She picked out a red lacy one and ominously said
“I’ll be back” as she walked into the change room. A minute later she returned and picked 4 more of the same , each in a different color. Bras are done.
She picked out her cotton, bikini cut panties in the 5 pack in size medium. On impulse I said to get another pack. I don’t care if someone wears the same pants two days in a row, but I’ll be damned if I want her wearing the same panties two days in a row. Panties are done.
I went to look for car parts or something and left her to the sundries.
We met at the check out where she paid for her items with a check and her own bank ID. I noted her tampons weren’t tampons, but petite mini-pads. I wondered if I was preoccupied with my nieces intimate functions and the clothes buying experience giving me wood, just thinking about her changing into new clothes. HHmmm. Before we left I bought her 3 pair of medium sized leather work gloves.
We had an hours drive home, it was late. We stopped by sonic and got food to eat on the way. it would be past dark when we got home and I was tired. We ate as we drove, Erica helping me eat and occasionally feeding me so i could concentrate on driving. She would giggle and crack jokes, but was careful not to distract me from driving down the highway.
We talked. I told her about etiquette in the west. You never remove your hat unless you can clean up and comb your hair, basically, you never remove your hat. Except for church. You don’t tuck your jeans into your boots, that’s for queers. You never iron your jeans. When you meet someone you look them in the eye and you shake their hand. Erica had done very well with Mrs. Spivey. Even though she was a kid she was expected to behave as an adult, unless she was with other kids her age. If she was in someone’s home she was to meet and stay with the ladies or the kids, her choice, the men would meet alone. All the rules that aren’t really rules but are accepted ways in the west.
Erica dozed off and scooted next to me again and put her head on my shoulder to fall asleep. As we bounced down the road to the house, she woke up. We both carried her suitcase and clothes into the house. I put her stuff in the guest room and cleaned some stuff out of her bathroom to make room for her. Erica was asleep on the couch. She had put her hat next to mine on the elk horn by the door. I shook her to wake her but she just moaned. I knelt down to pull her boots off. I loosened her belt and undid her jeans top button. With that Erica woke and sat up.