Tuesday, September 4

Who is she meeting?

Anne and I hit the airport tonight to pick up my parents from Terminal E.

As we waited I scanned the area for the usual suspects.

• Man with bunch of flowers from gas station.
• Kids with home-made sign displaying a poor use of typography
• Indian man pacing back and forth with phone clipped to Chinos
• Bitch with clipboard containing tour details and list of names

But suddenly an emaciated chick walked in front of me and stood gazing at the board.

She wore a synthetic-chiffon leopard-skin dress with a gusset. I'm sure there's a name for that, but that's my description and I'm sticking with it.

The usual oversized designer bag was slung over the shoulder sitting next to hair extensions which un-seamlessly mixed with her chemical damaged hair.

The heavy on the eye-liner look perfected the heroin chic, and at the bottom end she wore high heel ankle boots with a fluffy top!

And the fake tits on her 100 lb frame looked like someone had duct taped 2 candlepin balls to her chest.

For perfume she went with passionfruit-whorehouse.

We never got to see who she met. I was hoping for an over-weight middle-aged Middle Eastern gentleman.

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