ma vie en vert

my new career
Originally uploaded by imperialviolet.

the white escalade rolls to a halt. tinted window slides down.

"are you a model?"

i look around to see who he's propositioning, but since the homeless dude with the gaping forearm gash doesn't respond, i say-

"me? no."

"would you like to be a model?"

my inner public service announcement is warning me of 'stranger danger' but i hate to be rude, so I answer.

"no, thanks."

"not even for two thousand dollars an hour?"

i laugh, and for the first time, take a good look at him.

"what kind of 'modeling' are we talking about?"

"very classy. print work. french magazine."

ah, oui? you don't say? 2K an hour for some classy french stills eh?

like, me eating a baguette with brie perhaps?

or me, in a beret and red stripey shirt acting haughty and reading celine?

sign me up! my non-winner days are over, folks. no more promotional hoaxes for this jeune fille.

just piles and piles of filthy francs and sexy pics.

c'est bon!