I dreamed about Atlanta this morning, that a friend was going there for the day. There were eggs, too. Anyway:
I suppose models are always told that they are beautiful, and I assume that everyone hits on them. To ensure that I appear professional, I generally become buttoned-up, trying as hard as possible to not look at them lest they think I'm giving them flirty-eyes. Today I worked with a male model (who we will call Zoolander) at a shoot. He shook my hand and crushed it a little bit. I had to apply the makeup to his face, which is funny because I am clumsy with cosmetics. "As you can see, I am not big on makeup," I told him while dusting up his cheeks. "You don't need it," he said. "You have beautiful skin."
A normal lady might have blushed, assumed Zoolander was flirting, and made a saucy reply, but not me! Oh no, I am biz-a-ness all the way. Here was my response: "Oh, well, thank you. You know, that is nice to hear because after years of work, my skin is finally the way I want it to be, and I do face masks twice a week and I take special vitamins and I drink lots of pomegranate juice." Slick!
As it turns out, Zoolander recently graduated from my alma mater. When we discovered this commonality, it was as though we were best pals. We compared the quirks of our old dorm, talked about the church on Church, had a grand old time. "When did you graduate?" he asked. "2003?" Oh, sweet Zoolander, how you flatter me! I am old enough to be your big sister, if not your babysitter, but thank you all the same.
I suppose models are always told that they are beautiful, and I assume that everyone hits on them. To ensure that I appear professional, I generally become buttoned-up, trying as hard as possible to not look at them lest they think I'm giving them flirty-eyes. Today I worked with a male model (who we will call Zoolander) at a shoot. He shook my hand and crushed it a little bit. I had to apply the makeup to his face, which is funny because I am clumsy with cosmetics. "As you can see, I am not big on makeup," I told him while dusting up his cheeks. "You don't need it," he said. "You have beautiful skin."
A normal lady might have blushed, assumed Zoolander was flirting, and made a saucy reply, but not me! Oh no, I am biz-a-ness all the way. Here was my response: "Oh, well, thank you. You know, that is nice to hear because after years of work, my skin is finally the way I want it to be, and I do face masks twice a week and I take special vitamins and I drink lots of pomegranate juice." Slick!
As it turns out, Zoolander recently graduated from my alma mater. When we discovered this commonality, it was as though we were best pals. We compared the quirks of our old dorm, talked about the church on Church, had a grand old time. "When did you graduate?" he asked. "2003?" Oh, sweet Zoolander, how you flatter me! I am old enough to be your big sister, if not your babysitter, but thank you all the same.
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