This is all I could manage today:
On the corner of Dartmouth St and Boylston Street, you stand in your high-heels, smooth hair perfectly formed into a ponytail that measures to the top tip of your coccyx. Your ruby painted lips are pursed together slightly outwards, making your lips seem fuller and rounder than they actually are. Your eyes, brown slits heavy with black eyeliner and mascara, scan for around the busy business intersection at mid-day for your next client. Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, men swish by in grey pin striped business suits. Senior women out in droves holding Barney’s shopping bags, Lord and Tailor leather jackets, and Coach over the shoulder bags congregate on the corners, blocking and annoying residents. Swirls of activity stopping briefly during frequent light changes, honking cars, and no prospects in sight. How long will this take, you think. Is this worth it? Then he catches your eye – 6 ‘ 2 ” of pure honeyed business bliss right there for you. You catch the man’s hand and off you go.