Denise
Hey Denise! Are you down for a working session?
Or just brunch? I could tear up some mimosas.
Three dots appear on my phone immediately before I receive two emojis: an eggplant and a peace sign.
I giggle to myself. I’m happy for her. Not just about the dick, though anyone would be lucky to spend their Saturday mornings with a willing partner between their legs. No, what really makes me smile is how casual she’s being with me. Our first sessions were so stiff, I’d wondered whether it was going to work out. Now she’s sending me eggplant emojis. and I have no doubt she’d leave me on read if I texted again.
Rather than twat swat someone I now consider a friend, I send another text.
Daniela
Hey babes! Are you down for brunch? My treat!
Her reply comes just as I finish rinsing my coffee cup.
Daniela
Daniela:Aww! I’m in Miami for some catalog work.
Daniela:Raincheck?
I thumbs up her message and plop back down onto the sofa, staring out at the patches of blue sky peeking from between the surrounding buildings. Since when am I the only one without plans?
Since Andre, an unhelpful voice whispers from inside my head. I hate that it’s right. Being with Andre was like being on a cruise ship, with a strict itinerary and an outfit for each occasion. Friday and Saturday nights especially were about being seen, whether we were eating at a restaurant that just won a James Beard award, or seeing a hot new artist and potential opening act for Andre. Living such a cultivated, careful life was exhausting, but that was the deal when I married him. Now I’m wishing I had a show to prep for, a party to crash. Anything but getting shot down for brunch.
Are you seriously complaining about being lonely when you kicked Damon out so fast he left tire marks on the carpet?I shake my head. My conscience is being a catty bitch this morning.
Since I don’t get brunch or guilt-free dick, I head back to the kitchen for a smoothie. Maybe I’ll go for a walk after; people watch.
My Google alert for Andre mentions in the news makes me jump almost as much as the loud whir of the blender.
Andre Gibbs to Wed Background Bombshell
R&B Star Andre Gibbs Splurged on 5-carat Emerald Stunner for New Love
Two-time Grammy Winner Andre Gibbs and Julie Baker Spotted at La Croix Patissier
By the fourth headline, my smoothie sours in my stomach. I suppose it’s a small victory that only one article even names that home-wrecker. Unfortunately, the cameras love her. Every pic shows her tight calves, her pert breasts, her long, flowing weave.
I sigh.
Confidence has never been a problem for me. I grew up thinking I was beautiful, and that was validated every time I booked a gig. But even as a plus-size model, my body is viewed through the lens of traditional beauty standards.
I can be big, but I can’t have too much cellulite.
I can be big, but I have to also be tall so my proportions look more “traditional”.
The loaded word makes my lip curl.
I can be big, but my skin, hair, and makeup must be flawless at all times.
I can be big, but, but,but…
Designers want a gold star for offering extended sizes, but most don’t really want plus-size models in their shows. An unflattering pic from a careless paparazzo might actually cost me a job; perfection is mandatory.
Fuck ’em!They can have fun putting on a show. Meanwhile, I’ll be getting dicked down by a six foot six Adonis.
