I liked her the first time I saw her. She was a poor woman working in the factory. I was a manager at that same factory. We manufactured solar panels for private consumption. I had my white-collar work. She had her blue-collar duties down on the factory floor. One morning she came into the factory with her hair dyed blonde. I could still see the roots of her hair, which were brown, but her attempt to look like a blonde starlet rubbed off on me, despite her poor wages.I was paid well at the factory, and I often wondered why a beautiful woman like herself had to work in a factory of all places. She seemed like she didn’t belong there with the rest of the hairy, older female thugs she worked with. These women were all paid minimum wage. Most of them were not pleased with such a paltry amount.
