Bimbo Doll

T and I have been good friends for a while.  She’s an investment banker and has a no nonsense approach to life.  With long blonde hair and large green eyes, I can safely say that T is not only brainy but beautiful.  And she’s tough.  But I can’t tell you too much about her or she’ll come after me.  So, we’re sitting at the Harvard Club crying about our misery.  Not enough money and no good men.

“I’ll tell you what men want, Pink Slip.” she grins seductively eying the men in the room.

“You would know”, I drown myself in Pinot Grigio wondering how does she ever walk in those shoes.

“The Bimbo Doll!”

“I get it.  She’s blonde and blue-eyed like Barbie, and her boobs are totally disproportional.  And she can’t talk except when you pull her string.  Oh, and she comes with no clothes.”

“Perfect” T smiles.

“Except for a tiny Perla thong and bra.”

“Bimbo has a hoarse voice like she’s had the swine flu.”

“Yeah.” I go for the pretzels and cheese whiz.  I’ll start my diet tomorrow.  (How does T stay at a size 2?)

T shoves a carrot in her mouth.  “Oh, baby you’re so great.  You’re just what I want…

I chime in to stop her from going all the way “Oh, Oh, Oh, I really need your big…reference?”

“Oh Pink Slip,  get a job already!”

She’s right.  But doing what?


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