him to ignore us because Tabitha is breathing down his neck. He smiles at us.
“Hi,” says Tabitha—whom I have never seen like this—“I think you are great. I love your book. You are truly an artist. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Tabitha.”
Kevin extends his hand, very humbly. “I’m Kevin.” Wow! Then, he turns to me and smiles warmly. He takes my hand.
“Eve,” I say, wishing Kevin could be my best friend.
“Nice eyebrows.”
“Thanks,” I say, but not being enough of a fan to gush I feel kind of stupid. Tabitha drags me away, although I know it’s difficult for her to remain calm.
“Isn’t he amazing? So nice. Introducing himself like we didn’t know who he is.” We sigh and have another drink to celebrate the glowing goodness of Kevin.
Eventually, Tabitha has to hang out with Jaques and I wind up talking to some production assistant who tells me that his name is Moose. Moose talks to me as if I am about five. Even though he has opted to wear sunglasses inside, I can still pretty much tell that he is staring at my breasts.
“Have you ever been here before, Eve?”
“No, have you?”
“No.” He enunciates every word like he’s my preschool teacher. Maybe he’s really stoned or just used to talking to four-year-olds. He is so repulsive, but I’m bored and I’m kind of enjoying just toying with him. I guess correctly that he is from Staten Island and I think he thinks I want to go home with him.
“You know it smells there. Do you know where the bathroom is?”
“No,” he tells my chest. “I said I was never here before. Why would I lie to you?”
“I don’t know,” I say, adding, “Moose.” And then he just stares, blatantly stares, at my boobs. I look around for Tab, but she is cuddling with Jaques. She is to blame for my lack of bra. But wait! No matter what, I don’t deserve this. Why should I be gawked at or talked to like a child, by the likes of Moose? I’ve had enough.
“So, Moose—” I crouch down to crotch level and speak to his fly “—are you having fun?” I’m not quite sure Moose gets it. He would most likely swear I was seconds away from giving him a blow job. Tabitha must think the same, because she and Jaques rush over and decide to send me home in Jaques’s car. They are going to go to some party for a designer that will certainly be more star-studded. I protest that I want to go too, but Tabitha will not listen. I wave goodbye to the dickhead Moose, who is still trying to guess my tits’ address. I only hope Kevin didn’t see my display.
At work the next day, I don’t hear from Tabitha until she calls at noon (when she finally rolls in) thinking I am going to be awreck, but, it is she who is moving slowly. I ask her about the rest of her night. Despite the presence of several “fabulous celebs,” she is really most excited about the Kevin meeting and his kind compliments. Of course, she has to take some credit.
“Remember when I told you how to shape them better?”
“Yes, Tabitha, I owe it all to you.”
“Well, it really all goes back to Kevin. I mean, I got the idea out of his book. But, you know I can’t help feeling a bit envious. First you meet Prescott and now this. Two of my personal heroes you manage to charm.”
“I didn’t exactly meet Prescott, or charm anyone. It’s really thanks to you that I know who both of them are.”
“Well, I guess you’re right.” Everyone feels a lot better now.
I was so undrunk last night that I had a long talk with Roseanne when I got home. She had waited up for me after her short-lived disaster date. Apparently her breasts also were in the spotlight. She had just sat down for a nice dinner with Brad (okay so the tipoff should have been when he took her to a midtown tourist trap) when, feeling a little hot, she slipped off her blazer.
“Wow,” he gasped. “What a set of jugs.” Needless to say, Roseanne considered getting a doggie bag for her dinner and bailing, but she stuck it out
“Hi,” says Tabitha—whom I have never seen like this—“I think you are great. I love your book. You are truly an artist. Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Tabitha.”
Kevin extends his hand, very humbly. “I’m Kevin.” Wow! Then, he turns to me and smiles warmly. He takes my hand.
“Eve,” I say, wishing Kevin could be my best friend.
“Nice eyebrows.”
“Thanks,” I say, but not being enough of a fan to gush I feel kind of stupid. Tabitha drags me away, although I know it’s difficult for her to remain calm.
“Isn’t he amazing? So nice. Introducing himself like we didn’t know who he is.” We sigh and have another drink to celebrate the glowing goodness of Kevin.
Eventually, Tabitha has to hang out with Jaques and I wind up talking to some production assistant who tells me that his name is Moose. Moose talks to me as if I am about five. Even though he has opted to wear sunglasses inside, I can still pretty much tell that he is staring at my breasts.
“Have you ever been here before, Eve?”
“No, have you?”
“No.” He enunciates every word like he’s my preschool teacher. Maybe he’s really stoned or just used to talking to four-year-olds. He is so repulsive, but I’m bored and I’m kind of enjoying just toying with him. I guess correctly that he is from Staten Island and I think he thinks I want to go home with him.
“You know it smells there. Do you know where the bathroom is?”
“No,” he tells my chest. “I said I was never here before. Why would I lie to you?”
“I don’t know,” I say, adding, “Moose.” And then he just stares, blatantly stares, at my boobs. I look around for Tab, but she is cuddling with Jaques. She is to blame for my lack of bra. But wait! No matter what, I don’t deserve this. Why should I be gawked at or talked to like a child, by the likes of Moose? I’ve had enough.
“So, Moose—” I crouch down to crotch level and speak to his fly “—are you having fun?” I’m not quite sure Moose gets it. He would most likely swear I was seconds away from giving him a blow job. Tabitha must think the same, because she and Jaques rush over and decide to send me home in Jaques’s car. They are going to go to some party for a designer that will certainly be more star-studded. I protest that I want to go too, but Tabitha will not listen. I wave goodbye to the dickhead Moose, who is still trying to guess my tits’ address. I only hope Kevin didn’t see my display.
At work the next day, I don’t hear from Tabitha until she calls at noon (when she finally rolls in) thinking I am going to be awreck, but, it is she who is moving slowly. I ask her about the rest of her night. Despite the presence of several “fabulous celebs,” she is really most excited about the Kevin meeting and his kind compliments. Of course, she has to take some credit.
“Remember when I told you how to shape them better?”
“Yes, Tabitha, I owe it all to you.”
“Well, it really all goes back to Kevin. I mean, I got the idea out of his book. But, you know I can’t help feeling a bit envious. First you meet Prescott and now this. Two of my personal heroes you manage to charm.”
“I didn’t exactly meet Prescott, or charm anyone. It’s really thanks to you that I know who both of them are.”
“Well, I guess you’re right.” Everyone feels a lot better now.
I was so undrunk last night that I had a long talk with Roseanne when I got home. She had waited up for me after her short-lived disaster date. Apparently her breasts also were in the spotlight. She had just sat down for a nice dinner with Brad (okay so the tipoff should have been when he took her to a midtown tourist trap) when, feeling a little hot, she slipped off her blazer.
“Wow,” he gasped. “What a set of jugs.” Needless to say, Roseanne considered getting a doggie bag for her dinner and bailing, but she stuck it out
Similar Books
