Hall of Infinite Doors

You saunter up to Rosalie's desk with her daily mail. It consists of a office memo about the summer dress code. Rosalie is chatting with a friend on the phone.

"Yeah, I wish I could see that. But I hear it's like totally sold out. I'm so bummed. Oh well. Gotta go. Bye."

"What are you trying to get tickets to?"

Rosalie leans on her elbows and looks up at you. "Oh, the ballet. They were in town only one weekend, but they're all sold out. What I wouldn't do to go!"

"Well," you say, "I could get you tickets but . . ."

"But what?!!" says Rosealie, leaning forward. Her boobs are two wonderful white masses.

"Shhh," you say, leaning in and whispering. "I already have a date."

Rosealie twists a finger into her astounding hair. "Sooo?"

"So," you continue, "She works here. What if she found out?"

"I wouldn't tell," promises Rosealie sincerely. "And you could call in sick. Oh, please!! This is like the biggest event of my life!"

"Shhh," you say.