Wednesday, February 17, 2010

An Imagined Conversation Between Myself and This Model


Me: Hey, could I talk to you for a second?

Model: No, I'm busy. Very busy.

Me: Really? What are you doing?

Model: I've gotta get to work. I'm late. Have you seen the NASDAQ numbers today? Dreadful! I'm late! I've really gotta go.

Me: You seem like you're pretty wound up.

Model: HAVE YOU SEEN THE NASDAQ NUMBERS?

Me: Well, no.

Model: If you saw them you'd be stressed out too. Trust me.

Me: I see that you're wearing a corset. That's kind of stressing me out.

Model: What? This? This is a Sir-set, not a corset. It's for men. It shapes and slims the torso.

Me: So it's a corset.

Model: Sir-set.

Me: Good god. You're wearing a corset. Just own it!

Model: I assure you I am not wearing a corset.

Me: Did your overbearing mother lace you into it this morning while forbidding you from seeing the man you love because he's poor and your father recently died, leaving you and your mom with nothing but bad debts hidden by a good name?

Model: Yes.

Me: Umm...wow.

Model: Alas, this Sir-set is a metaphor for the ever-suffocating cage that is my life.

Me: Corset. It's a corset, dude.


p.s. Thanks, Tricia!