Can it be true? FiFi Jo, the self obsessed mother and good-time girl, working? |
Awake dazed, confused, head heavy as a brick and still fully dressed in yesterday’s outfit. All is normal then. Except that today, am determined to start hunting for a job. Unfortunately, sitting around my flat waiting for a suitable profession with enormous pay does not seem to be working. En route to success, pass a sale bin full of designer knickers. Start throwing pretty pastel panties all over the shop in movements akin to a chicken without a head. Reach down to pick up a sparkly pair, when instead, feel another hand. Am prepared to put up a struggle if need be, however, am in luck! The hand is definitely male. As my eyes move upwards over his strong legs, (noticing a Louis Vuitton umbrella – this fella has money!), discover a pair of the blackest, most intense eyes a girl could fall into. However, not being one for falling, (unless it’s off a bar table at two a.m.), am immune to this delectable male specimens’ charms. He chuckles something about my persistence and feels that a drink would be in order to “calm me down”. Little does he know the effect is usually quite the opposite. We spend the afternoon sharing expensive bottles of wine (bought by him), extremely witty banter (all me), sexy laughter (me again), fluttering eyelashes (that’s him), suggestive licking of lips (both of us), sliding off chairs (that’d be me), snoring on the floor (yep, me again), and yelling and screaming over a waste of time and money (all him – charming, isn’t he?). Awaken to camera flashes. Seems I have been placed in the department store window and am a vital part of the installation. It’s an art work piece on the humiliation of women in modern society. I am employed in my dream job! Word count: 299. Prompt: chicken, umbrella, brick |