Jim and Pam stood side by side, in silence, in the quiet elevator, their hands still clasped. Neither dared to pull away. They watched the floor numbers increase, watching one another only peripherally. As the doors to the elevator finally separated, so did their own clammy hands, each smiling to themselves briefly before wiping the palm against their clothing.
Jim stepped into the hall first and, turning, placed his hands on his hips as he narrowed his eyes at Pam, still standing in the elevator, “Would you come on now Beesley? They may decide to give the makeover to someone else you know, like Meredith or Phyllis.”
“Would that be so terrible?” Pam muttered, as she, finally, stepped into the hallway and followed Jim into the office. The camera man followed at a distance, having taken the steps up, though dying to know what he had missed. He knew Jim and Pam made good television, and, therefore, made him look good and made a raise a more realistic possibility. He just couldn’t help but feel bad about it, though. It just didn’t seem right to exploit them.
“There you are! Come on, get in here, Nikki and Carson are ready to begin. Here let’s just unbutton this top button here….ok, much better.” The producer practically attacked Pam as she entered the crowded room. Instead of cramming everyone into the small conference room, the crew had decided that pushing back some of the desks and setting everything up in the main office would work better. A large screen was set up near the reception area, and the chairs from every desk had been lined up in rows where every Dunder-Mifflin Scranton employee sat.
Pam stood frozen, realizing that camera crew members now outnumbered Dunder-Mifflin employees by at least double. She eyed the path to the bathrooms hopefully and wondered if she could make a run for it. Then she felt Jim’s palm on her back pushing her gently towards the chairs.
“Come on, this is the easy part. We just have to sit through it and collect the money. Let’s find a seat…”
Pam relaxed and allowed his warm hand to guide her into a seat near the front of the group. As she walked she noticed Phyllis smiling encouragingly at her. She also noticed Karen glaring, but was too focused on surviving the rest of the day to feel much concern for Karen’s jealousy. Jim sat down next to her.
Nikki and Carson were led on to their “marks” by the director and fussed over by hair and makeup crew. For her part, Pam smoothed her grey skirt a bit and picked a tiny piece of lint from her sweater sleeve.
“Ok, guys. What we are going to do now is just roll the footage we have from the past week and Nikki and Carson will banter a bit – comment on the outfits and make a few jokes. We need all of you to keep quiet during this unless addressed personally. If that happens, speak up, but don’t shout and just answer the question.” The director held a clipboard in his arms as he explained things to the group, most of whom were perfectly comfortable being filmed at this point. Michael looked overwhelmed and simply stared wide-eyed at the spectacle around him.
Then the lights dimmed and the screen became animated with images of Pam - walking out of the office to her car, from her car to her apartment, and even entering the grocery store in baggy yoga pants and a hooded sweatshirt. She tried very, very hard not to cringe. It became nearly impossible as Nikki and Carson began speaking.
“What on earth are you wearing here, girl? A hand-me-down from your great-grandmother?! I had no idea one girl could even own so many cardigans!” Carson threw his head back in laughter.
“Well, I think this is a nice look. For one of the Golden Girls!” Nikki chortled as crossed her legs and swung one pointy toed foot back and forth.
Pam bit her lip and sunk lower in her chair, realizing that she did dress rather frumpy. She did wear things that were un-flattering and ugly; especially compared to other women her age, like Karen, who always looked sophisticated and stylish. She knew Karen was sitting behind her at this very moment in a perfectly tailored charcoal grey pantsuit with a v-necked fuchsia shirt beneath it. Her hair was nearly as shiny as her lip gloss. Pam’s knee-length grey skirt and pink cardigan looked ugly and she couldn’t believe it has seemed acceptable only a few hours earlier. She felt her hands trembling and pulled the sleeves of her cardigan over them.
