| It Only Hurts a Little |
[15 Nov 2007|08:33pm] |
Dear Vivian,
I landed a job at an upscale spa called Rouge. That’s right. Red and heavy on the period.
The owner refers to herself as Margaux. She’s fat and white and overly moisturized, and for those reasons, she reminds me of warm dough. She also has a fake French accent. I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling. I snatched her wallet and checked out her real name. Marge Bloomberg.
Of course I’m not that qualified. Usually I’m the one going to the spa. But good old warm-dough Margaux took me under her wing. I have the dubious joy of sweeping up hair, handing out bottles of Evian, taking reservations from rich bitches on the telephone, and waxing people’s pubes.
Sigh.
I miss being nouveau riche.
On the upside, ripping epidermis off is surprisingly good stress relief.
STAR
PS- Would you like a warm towel?
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