I'm talking to you!
What should I do first?" Desiree asked her. "Wait a minute!"
Desiree walked out of the kitchen and returned with her notebook
and pen.
"You serious, huh?" Ginger giggled.
"Okay. Well, what do you want to know? Do you want to model, or do
you want to rap?"
"I want to know it all and do it all.
I want to be a star."
"Well, first you need to get some
really nice pictures. I can hook you up with a couple of
photographers who do good work for a good price."
Get pictures
taken . Desiree took her time scribbling
into her notebook, dotting the "i" in "pictures" with a smiley
face.
"Okay, then what?" Desiree looked up
as eager as a school-child who just realized she could
read.
"God, you are silly. Anyway...then you
need to find an agent. There are some to definitely stay away from!
But there's this new girl out, a black girl, she has an agency that
is supposed to be pretty good. She has the hookup when it comes to
videos. There's also this guy who I think wants to be an actor too,
but he seems to be hooking chicks up on that tip. But you should
also send your pictures to the 'white' agencies. They handle real
work like for catalogs and stuff. Not just videos and urban work."
Ginger made quotation marks in the air with her fingers as she
mentioned urban work.
"Is that just a nice way of saying
black stuff?" Desiree asked Ginger, laughing.
"You know this," Ginger
replied.
Desiree smiled as she jotted down all
of the information. She was beginning to see a clear path for her
future, but it wasn't about all the school shit Ginger was always
spouting. Teachers had never done shit for her anyway when she did
go to school. And most of the shit they taught you didn't help you
one bit once you walked outside a classroom door. Ginger could talk
about school all she wanted, because she was a brainiac. Desiree
didn't mind dancing, but if there was an easier way to get paid and
get ahead, she was going to find it and take it.
Within the next two weeks,
Desiree felt back to normal, but she had
to wait another two weeks before going back to work at the club.
The boredom was driving her insane. She had taken a roll of
pictures - head shots to get her started - and mailed them to all
the agents on a list that Ginger had downloaded from the Internet.
But the waiting for a response was driving her insane.
"Let's go sit by the pool," Desiree
suggested to Ginger. Sitting in the house watching videos that she
should be in was making her angry.
"Cool. I could stand to get a little
bit darker." Ginger inspected her already sun-bronzed
skin.
"You gonna end up like
that lady in There's Something About
Mary, " Desiree joked.
"Nah. Black folks don't get all
wrinkly like that," Ginger said, giggling.
Desiree and Ginger sat poolside,
sipping a strong pitcher of margaritas made with Patrón and
munching on tortilla chips with homemade salsa.
"I wish I could take my top off, but
the doctor said no direct sunlight until my checkup. Do you think
I'd be okay if I did?" Desiree fiddled with the triangle top of her
hot-pink bikini.
"Probably, but leave it on just to be
safe. Your tan lines are going to be sexy as hell and make your
boobs look bigger," Ginger informed her while spreading carrot oil
on her legs.
"I can't wait to go back to work!"
Desiree enthused.
"Why? I thought you wanted to be a
model and a rapper."
"I do. I just miss the
club."
"Don't tell me you actually like
working?" Ginger snarled, her upper lip curling up in
disgust.
"Don't you?" Desiree looked
shocked.
"Fuck no! I like the money, but that's
it. Men are pigs!" Ginger flipped her hair and frowned.
"That's right. I keep forgetting
you're a carpet muncher," Desiree said, grinning. Ginger flipped
her the bird.
"You liked it," Ginger retorted.
Desiree responded by returning the flip-off. "Anyway, bitch, I'm
saying we have a little cheese. We get props in the clubs. We get
little hookups here and there. All that's nice, but don't you ever
feel like it's not
What should I do first?" Desiree asked her. "Wait a minute!"
Desiree walked out of the kitchen and returned with her notebook
and pen.
"You serious, huh?" Ginger giggled.
"Okay. Well, what do you want to know? Do you want to model, or do
you want to rap?"
"I want to know it all and do it all.
I want to be a star."
"Well, first you need to get some
really nice pictures. I can hook you up with a couple of
photographers who do good work for a good price."
Get pictures
taken . Desiree took her time scribbling
into her notebook, dotting the "i" in "pictures" with a smiley
face.
"Okay, then what?" Desiree looked up
as eager as a school-child who just realized she could
read.
"God, you are silly. Anyway...then you
need to find an agent. There are some to definitely stay away from!
But there's this new girl out, a black girl, she has an agency that
is supposed to be pretty good. She has the hookup when it comes to
videos. There's also this guy who I think wants to be an actor too,
but he seems to be hooking chicks up on that tip. But you should
also send your pictures to the 'white' agencies. They handle real
work like for catalogs and stuff. Not just videos and urban work."
Ginger made quotation marks in the air with her fingers as she
mentioned urban work.
"Is that just a nice way of saying
black stuff?" Desiree asked Ginger, laughing.
"You know this," Ginger
replied.
Desiree smiled as she jotted down all
of the information. She was beginning to see a clear path for her
future, but it wasn't about all the school shit Ginger was always
spouting. Teachers had never done shit for her anyway when she did
go to school. And most of the shit they taught you didn't help you
one bit once you walked outside a classroom door. Ginger could talk
about school all she wanted, because she was a brainiac. Desiree
didn't mind dancing, but if there was an easier way to get paid and
get ahead, she was going to find it and take it.
Within the next two weeks,
Desiree felt back to normal, but she had
to wait another two weeks before going back to work at the club.
The boredom was driving her insane. She had taken a roll of
pictures - head shots to get her started - and mailed them to all
the agents on a list that Ginger had downloaded from the Internet.
But the waiting for a response was driving her insane.
"Let's go sit by the pool," Desiree
suggested to Ginger. Sitting in the house watching videos that she
should be in was making her angry.
"Cool. I could stand to get a little
bit darker." Ginger inspected her already sun-bronzed
skin.
"You gonna end up like
that lady in There's Something About
Mary, " Desiree joked.
"Nah. Black folks don't get all
wrinkly like that," Ginger said, giggling.
Desiree and Ginger sat poolside,
sipping a strong pitcher of margaritas made with Patrón and
munching on tortilla chips with homemade salsa.
"I wish I could take my top off, but
the doctor said no direct sunlight until my checkup. Do you think
I'd be okay if I did?" Desiree fiddled with the triangle top of her
hot-pink bikini.
"Probably, but leave it on just to be
safe. Your tan lines are going to be sexy as hell and make your
boobs look bigger," Ginger informed her while spreading carrot oil
on her legs.
"I can't wait to go back to work!"
Desiree enthused.
"Why? I thought you wanted to be a
model and a rapper."
"I do. I just miss the
club."
"Don't tell me you actually like
working?" Ginger snarled, her upper lip curling up in
disgust.
"Don't you?" Desiree looked
shocked.
"Fuck no! I like the money, but that's
it. Men are pigs!" Ginger flipped her hair and frowned.
"That's right. I keep forgetting
you're a carpet muncher," Desiree said, grinning. Ginger flipped
her the bird.
"You liked it," Ginger retorted.
Desiree responded by returning the flip-off. "Anyway, bitch, I'm
saying we have a little cheese. We get props in the clubs. We get
little hookups here and there. All that's nice, but don't you ever
feel like it's not
Similar Books
