Today I met with a student and then went to psychotherapy. Then I went to half of a dayshift at the Studio. My client FLAKED, so that was an afternoon I could have spent doing something more entertaining, like flossing my teeth.
Actually, the conversation with the women in the lounge was pretty entertaining. We were showing each other photos on our computers. I brought up some from my beatings.
As Anton Chekhov might have said, “an angel of silence flew over the room.”
C. looked over my shoulder, peering at the screen.
“Holyeeeee shit, Margo! I hope you got paid for that. You got paid, like, $1000 for that, right? Tell me you got paid for that.”
“Nope! Not this one. Couldn’t do it.”
She smiled and gave me a funny look. “If I was a gangster, I’d break two of your fingers right now to get you in line. You fucking crazy wackadoo! See the way your eyes shine.”
Her eyes moved back to the image on the screen and then came back to me.
“Yeah, I bet the creeps love you, Redhead. I bet they want to beat that angelic face right in. Amirite? Pro tip, Red: Get fucking paid for it. If I was an educated, pretty wackadoo like you, I’d be rich.”
“That’s why you’re such a success in this business, C. Compared to you, I have no hustle.” I responded.
It’s true. C. is unstable, energetic, assertive, and fearless. She also has an excellent but brutal sense of humor (Ex: C has said in the past: Red! Is that dress bebe…? Bebe is for skanky Russians who think they’ve made it!). Sometimes she gets hired for six, seven hours by a single individual.
Suddenly, C. seized my hand and wrenched it towards herself. She is intense and fast. It happened in 2 seconds. She smiled and bent my two of my fingers backwards,over the top of the hand as if to break or injure them.
I made a shout and she released me.
“Think about it, Red. Get paid.” She tossed my own hand on my lap like it was a stuffed animal.