"can't say i found the gaultier spring show very inspiring"
"can i get another sangria"
"i'm boycotting urban outfitters and all it's associated brands. have you heard about that asshole CEO"
"it's such a gorgeous day, i feel like thoreau in walden"
*eyeroll* "this is central park"
*scoff* [pan out. fade out: sun drenched view of sheep's meadow]
she prances out all legs and leather. yves saint laurent opium? aren't we a little old for that? at once, a cougar and a minx. [i wonder how many minks when into that vest] flaming with lascivious vulgarity and coordinating coral lipstick. pause. scowl at the blackberry. so i suppose not even heiresses are immune to this city. a vestige of exasperation behind those chanel shades? last season? shame. she grimaces and her rings gleam with garish unease.
she is the reason i hate where i've been. got pregnant in the dressing room at saks? no. no children. monthly dye jobs. mr. stuffed shirt has a mistress. she knows. a little too tired for the 5 inch thigh highs? too tired and too plastic. out of breath and out of time and mind and love. brush the hair, curl the lashes, rouge the cheeks, blow him. 1 2 3 1 2 3 1 2 3. waltz with a smile and a short skirt. "I'm home." [deliver with absolute dispassion]
"I have a Bobby Van's skirt steak here for you"
"No time. Dinner with Anjelica tonight"
"You're screwing her aren't you"
"Yeah"
"Alright, see you at 11"
[eyes wide shut. mimed kisses on the cheek. emphasis on the sound of the kissing.]
the elevator arrives. he enters. [3 beats of silence] the elevator leaves. she remains.
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