<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Res Ipsa on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/res-ipsa/</link><description>Recent content in Res Ipsa on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Wed, 08 May 2002 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/res-ipsa/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Ready to Play Part 2</title><link>/stories/2002/05/08/ready-to-play-part-2/</link><pubDate>Wed, 08 May 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/05/08/ready-to-play-part-2/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="ready_to_play.html"&gt;part one&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part Two&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Jordan’s conversation puzzled me. Had she
already called Doris and told her that she found me in handcuffs?
If Jordan did not call before, what “play” was Jordan talking about?
There were so many questions running through my head and no way to express
them. It wasn’t long before Jordan was tugging at my leash and saying,
“Walk for me.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It took another several minutes but I made it
back to my bedroom. My legs were sore from the walk and my feet hurt.
It felt good when Jordan forcefully turned me around and pushed me onto
my bed. I was sitting on my bed watching Jordan move towards my closet
and pulling out some clothes. I could not see what was being pulled
out and thrown into the suitcase that she had found in the closet.
When she turned around I saw her holding the little lock that was used
to secure the luggage. She approached me and said, “I knew we would
be able to use this.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Ready to Play?</title><link>/stories/2002/05/08/ready-to-play/</link><pubDate>Wed, 08 May 2002 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2002/05/08/ready-to-play/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A gift for Jennifer has unintended consequences
for Stacey as she discovers who her friends really are&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was finally Friday afternoon. It was
almost time to go home and do nothing but relax. I would normally
go out with some friends for dinner and dancing but tonight I wanted to
do nothing. Nothing—it just sounded perfect. It had been a
long week and I was tired.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I am a manager of an accounting office.
I started as a file clerk six years ago. I quickly became a secretary
and when Jennifer said she was leaving to get married, I was offered her
position as office manager. That was three long months ago.
There were two other women who had more seniority but Mark, the managing
partner of the firm, pushed hard for my promotion. The promotion
ended my friendship with the other women in my office. I overheard
them once too many times talking amongst themselves and offering suggestions
as
to why I was promoted over one of them. The rumors they spread were
not true but I knew the other partners had heard them and would occasionally
look at me with a wondrous eye.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>