Ellen, Part 1: She hated to be kept waiting, especially in an outer office. Apparently, the meeting - one, which

of course was not invited to, an additional insult - had run overtime, a bit more than anticipated.  Or, maybe not.  Maybe that was part of the game.  Still, to get what she wanted, Ellen had to play along - and smile.  Finally, the air-conditioning kicked on, and hopefully would stay on, for as long as she had to wait - and smile.

Her light faux cashmere coat was a bit much, but it was the only one that extended down to her mid-thigh region.  

The guy sitting behind the reception desk had ignored her the whole time; he hadn't troubled himself to offer her even a cup of coffee.  She knew this place.  Other clients  - if, in good graces, or they knew ...the drill - were offered coffee and a selection of  pastries, which came from the area's finest bakery.  

The inner-office door opened.  Inside, was yet another waiting room - that's where the pastries were.  A few suits came out - one or two, she recognized - walked by Ellen, as if she didn't even exist.  They exited.

After another 15 minutes or so had passed, the stud-bedecked receptionist took out his ear plug.  "You may go in."  He put the plug back in his ear, and continued doing ... whatever.

Finally within the first room of the inner suite, another receptionist, with plug in ear,  directed her to "please have a seat."  Neither coffee or any pastries, were offered, however.   Alittle more comfortable, anyway, Ellen crossed her legs, while giving the coat's hem a tug, to cover.

In short, the real Dorothy from Oz wore a volumous skirt that reached at the knee - if not a bit longer.  And the little girl, in the story, wore cotton bobby socks - not itchy garters, that pinched.