Sitting in the office, Keenan and I heard this thumping that sounded like a handicapped elephant trying to get up a flight of stairs. We opened the door, but instead of an elephant it was a young guy trying to lug a large plastic suitcase, the kind of thing that you might store a large uzi.
I offered to help the kid and he obliged. So we hauled this heavy crate up to the third floor and when I asked what was in the suitcase but was told “oh nothing.” Maybe it was an uzi?
Upon arriving at their apartment, I helped ease the suitcase into the open living space where, to my surprise, stood about four beautiful women. They stood with small mirrors, helping each other dab splashes of makeup and twirl each others hair. They were dressed in the skimpiest of lingerie which was pink and see-through, not unlike the mesh you use to catch fireflies. This was like a baggage handlers dream! For a moment, staring at these beautiful creatures, I thought about going, full time, into the bell boy industry but then decided against it when I realized about those silly little hats.
What was going on here? Was this some sort of pornographic movie set? Had I been brought here for a reason?
I left as my staring appeared to make a few of the models uncomfortable and returned to my office where I sat all giddy with delight for about sever minutes. That is, until the same young man (but this time with a new suitcase) arrived at the first floor again: thump, thump, thump.
I have never before been so eager to assist someone lift a large weight item. I scurried down to help him, and used our bonding time to inquire further. “So those girls up there,” I said, “what are they all doing?”
“Nothing much, just some magazine works.”
Magazine works, I thought to myself. Now that’s the career for me.
Keenan and I sat like little dogs as we watched the beautiful models prance around. Eventually they got close enough we could snap a couple pictures out our window, which we’re re-printing without copyright. We still don’t know what they were snapping photos for and we don’t really care. It was just a lovely reprieve from the hectic work day, to see women dancing around in, frankly, silly lingerie. They carried umbrellas and wore large bouquets of flowers in their hair. They made the type of poses that called you out of your office.
I want to marry them.