Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Wednesday, Oct. 05, 2005 - 2:12 a.m.

So, I had a job interview today, and when I got there for it, the guy I was supposed to interview with was talking to this little 20 year old snipped who was all leaning against the counter toward him, all wide-eyed and excited-like. She was wearing super lowrise jeans and a little midriff-baring t-shirt that showed a good 6" of belly, cute little sandals, and she had long, wavy surfer girl hair in light brown with tons of blond highlights, which she was all but twirling around her finger as she talked to the guy. I stood there and waited for them to finish, and when they were done, he went in the back for a few minutes, and she talked to me for a little while she waited for him to come back. She seemed pretty nice and smart; friendly but no-nonsense, and when he came back, she batted her eyes a bit, cooed it was nice to meet him, and walked out. From the conversation I heard, it was evident she'd seen the help wanted sign in the window and walked in, and he'd hired her. I saw the help wanted sign yesterday, and his wife loved me, but when she called him out to talk to me, it was evident he was unimpressed. He just told me he was busy and to come back today, then he left, and she told me when to come in.

First words out of his mouth were that he was too busy and he'd just have to call me sometime. I said okay, that was fine, and then he said you know, he hired someone yesterday and really didn't need me at all. Which was bullshit, because I saw him at the end of day yesterday, and if he'd hired someone, he'd have told me not to come back today. But I said okay, thank you for your time, and then he looked down at my application, none of which says anything about acting, and he goes "So you're an actress." I said not anymore. So he said "But you're working now." And I said freelance, but it's no work to speak of, and I need a steady income. So he said don't call us, we'll call you, and he was pretty much an asshole the entire time, like he was beyond irritated I was there, and I smiled and said thank you and walked out, and then cried the whole way up the hill, because you know if I'd been 20 with big tits, he'd have hired me. His wife knows it to, and that's why she liked me. He, though, he liked Miss 20 with the surfer hair and perfect, 20 year old body. Which I just can't compete with anymore. And the truly suckass thing is that even if I weren't packing 20 extra pounds - which, frankly, is not that much, especially if you were a girl everyone thought was too damn skinny - I still couldn't compete, because even at my young age, my skin isn't all tight anymore. I'm not a heifer, but neither am I the perfect, taut 20 year old I used to be. And I wish I'd known I was when I was, because lemme tell ya: I would have worked it more. And okay, that's probably not true, because I have never liked being objectified, but you know, just once I want to walk into a room and be the one that drops the jaws and makes every guy in the place go "da-yam". Just once, I want every guy in the place to think I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Just fricking once.

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