Jane and Irma Lose Their Jobs ( #15)

Dear Miss Erma Peterson. Huh, she's had strange salmon with a name just like mine. This is to inform you that you are fired. Oh, that poor Miss Peterson. Miss Peterson? Yes, Mr. Clyde. You read that letter? You're fired.

Me? Yes, yes, you. But the letter said, Dear Miss Peterson. He never called me dear before. Yet just show you the minute you let the boss get familiar with you, you're out of a job.

Miss Peterson, will you please go? All right, but I don't think it's fair. Fair, fair. Miss Peterson, for the life of me, I don't know what goes on in that head of yours when I give you legal dictation.

Or something wrong? Wrong. If I hadn't checked the last batch of letters you typed, Senator Adams would be lobbing in Reno with Mrs. Park, and I would be suing President Truman for a divorce. I'll get out. You're through. You're fired.

Then there's no hope for a raise. A raise, Miss Peterson, will you please go? Well, all right, but don't think I'm worried about losing my job. You see, I don't have to work. I have a roommate who will take care of me because she's got a steady job and works for a boyfriend

so she can never get fired. Ah! Richard Reiland of Investments, Miss Stacy speaking. Yes, yes, I'll check on it immediately. Richard, uh, Mr. Girard just called. Forget Mr. Girard, Jane. Say, what's this nonsense about you resigning from your job?

Well, Richard, I think my letter of resignation speaks for itself. Richard, I've come to the conclusion that it's better to be the boss's wife and worry about the secretary than be the secretary and worry about being the boss's wife.