The Supermodel

I was feeling kind of cute in my stripy Anthropologie saleroom skirt and snappy sweater today, until I bumped into her.

Remember how I told you there is a modeling agency in our building? Well get this. I parked my car in the garage just a bit ago, strapped on my backpack laptop bag and grabbed my water bottle. As I crossed the street, heading to our building, I noticed a very tan woman of about seven feet in height wearing a spandex hot pink mini-dress, walking a bit behind me. So you know what I did for you all? I slowed down in hopes of catching the same elevator together. Upon entering the building I saw a man in a business suit stepping onto the elevator. Then I really slowed down so the guy wouldn’t hold the door for me. I just had to get a good look at this lady.

As I approached the elevators, eyeing behind me like I’d just remembered something that should’ve been back there, I reached toward the up button excruciatingly slowly, much to the annoyance of the middle-aged woman directly behind me who was on her way to an attorney’s office. But it worked! We’d be riding the same elevator up. As I waited, that model stared at herself in the marble walls and fluffed her hair. Then she dropped her phone and I turned away quick-like as to not see too much of my supermodel.

At last, the doors open and the middle-aged woman, my supermodel and I stepped into the elevator. The modeling agency is on the second floor, which only gave me about ten seconds with her (I’m going to have to ask that agency to move up a few floors).

I remember in a sociology class learning about social norms. A very common social norm is facing forward in an elevator.  We all do it without even thinking, and anyone who doesn’t is totally deviant. The professor dared any of us to, upon our next elevator ride, walk in and not turn around to face the front. Oh what a hoot.

Well, because our elevator walls are also marble, my supermodel stood backwards the whole ride up, staring into the marble and tugging at her dress (that thing would simply not cooperate, being spandex, miniscule and one-armed). I got the feeling her backwards posture was not a sociological experiment. She also smelled like smoke, which I don’t think will be a plus for her, but I didn’t say anything.

Now that I’m here in the office, things seem quite drab compared to my supermodel. Everybody is quietly working on loans, James and Chad are both wearing their boring blue shirts, and neither smells like smoke.



Come on, guys! Spice things up a bit! Geez, you’d think we’re a bunch of mortgage bankers around here.

I may spend the rest of my afternoon in the modeling agency.

Speaking of models, our dear Hayley is away this week. I told you all a while back that she got engaged, and now she is married and on her honeymoon. James and Chad are busy filling her role while she’s gone and I think each is about on the verge of tears at this point. That said, it’d be an awesome week to call for a loan. They’re both so emotional right now that they may forget to charge you for your appraisal or something. Okay maybe not, but it’s still a good week to call.

Lastly, it’s time we have another giveaway, don’t you think? I’ll go badger the Bosses for some green to put towards that, and you all let me know what you’d like the prize to be. Spa day? Restaurant card? Free dog grooming? Hot pink spandex mini dress?

Okay, ponder that, and I’m off to the second floor.