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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Neocon who wrote (55071)	9/12/1999 11:31:00 AM
From: Rambi	Read Replies (4) \| Respond to of 108807

Ah- it so happens I wrote about that somewhere years ago in a post-- It was the summer of 1970. She had her degree, and she was starving to death playing bit roles in regional theatre. Someone in the current dinner theatre show (A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum)who knew of her plight circled an ad in the paper for her - "Opening for Juvenile Probation Officer". salary 6300.00. A fortune compared to the 35.00 a week she was making dancing around in a bikini and singing to a little fat man. She made an appointment the next day and borrowed a serious, navy blue suit from the wardrobe department. Impeccably attired, perfectly made-up, hair in bleached waves down her back, she started out in the elderly VW, which made it onto the highway, ran into a huge thunderstorm, inhaled too much water and drowned. Standing in the rain, her once curly waistlong blonde hair slowly melting, her makeup washing into the engine as she leaned over it, despair hit. There was no way to make the appointment. She was doomed to play bit parts forever, growing wrinkled and skinny for lack of proper nutrition and sleeping in the back of the defunct VW. "Can I help?" a friendly male voice pierced her depression. To the accompaniment of sobs and hiccups, she poured out her tale of woe. "Hey, I'll take you to the courthouse. Get in." said the knight in the shining Buick. (Well, it was 1970 remember!) At the courthouse, she rushed to the Ladies' Room, looked in the mirror and screamed in horror. Frantically rubbing off the blotchy remains of her make-up, and buttoning up the suit top to hide her wet, clinging blouse, she pulled her dripping hair back in a wet bun with a rubber band she borrowed from the receptionist and headed off to the interview, exhausted and depressed. As her boss later told her, "You just LOOKED like a Probation Officer-the bun, no make-up, quiet. Boy, was I ever wrong."