"You see, all the people who work here keep asking me what I'm doing with my life. They ask, 'why aren't you on America's Next Top Model?' They keep taking pictures of me and threatening to send them to Tyra," says the waitress as she sits down across from me. She is exquisitely beautiful; over 6' tall, model-thin and she obviously has a unique sense of style with her floppy purple mohawk-like 'do. She seems to be taking refuge at my table for a moment.
"Now all the customers are over there showing me the photos they have of me in their camera-phones. It's a little stalkerish don't you think?" she asks hopefully.
"You should sign up for the next show!" I say to encourage her. She answers, "I would love to, but I'm very sensitive. I can't take criticism. And Tyra is hard on all of those girls. I would cry. My mother is always telling me I could be like her. She was a model. My sister always says it too. I just tell them I don't want to be like them with their bougie selves." and she walked away without ever making eye contact.
I wandered in here because my boss is throwing up today so I can't be at the home office. She's the third person I am frequently around to spend the day like this in a week. It's only a matter of time, I suppose. Hope I didn't give the germs to the model waitress.