Skinny Blonde is just your typical modern day woman, recently divorced she is discovering new challenges and new pleasures in her newly defined life.
Skinny loves her kids fiercely, they keep her on her toes and young at heart. She loves her Rottweiler who keep her safe and sane, unconditionally.
She maintains a healthy lifestyle and an unhealthy obsession with her Walk-In Robe and its contents.
Her friends call her Skinny, her frenemies refer to her as that Skinny Bitch.
Weird things just seem to happen to Skinny, at work, at home, during her renovations, on dating sites, in carparks. Read on, has any of his ever happened to you?
1) Week 1 : The Lizard and the CEO Incident
Skinny Blonde’s new contract requires her to interview participants in a research project. They are all high powered business people. They are all men. The job requires that she interview them in their homes or offices so they are comfortable in their own territory. So she is comfortable in their territory she wears her best black intimidation suit with her best black Honey Birdette intimidation underwear underneath for extra confidence – she secretly wishes she could wear her white coat for the interviews, everyone knows the white coat effect.
She’d last seen the lizard before she went to bed last night. He’d been in her room running around madly on the floor when she was choosing her corporate outfit for today. She thought at the time how like Jurassic Park it was here in her new house. If it wasn’t lizards, it was cane toads, if it wasn’t cane toads it was snakes. But she drew the line at the latter two in the house. Lizards though, were cute. Struggling with time constraints she grabs her briefcase and handbag from the corner of the room. She doesn’t have time to worry about it now. What’s the worst that could happen?
Skinny has traveled in from her home, located in a leafy western suburb where she has recently moved, by car and bus to the CBD and now finds herself in glamorous minimalist decorated offices of the first participant of the project. A female security guard escorts her from the stunning but intimidating black and white reception area on the ground floor through a maze of windowless offices to a private elevator. The next generation elevator silently rockets to the top level and the telescopic glass doors open, transporting Skinny to a different atmosphere. The security guard walks her to another intimidating reception area which is manned by an unsmiling middle aged receptionist who surveys Skinny critically from under winged eyebrows. The receptionist holds out her hand Skinny realizes just in time so as not to appear slow, for the email confirmation of the appointment. The receptionist’s xray vision eyes scan it, slowing to just speed reading at the important section, then she indicates a corner office with her French manicured right hand.
“He’s expecting you, just go straight in,” she says surprisingly, considering all the prior security measures.
Skinny retrieves the letter and follows the scary woman’s directions.
Skinny’s interviewee is the CEO. Of course he is. His office is located on the top floor. Of course it is. And Skinny obligingly admires the panoramic view before placing her bag on the luxurious Chesterfield sofa indicated by Mr Big. It is opposite the oversized Brazilian mahogany round boardroom table where he is already presiding, looking stern and and impatient, but impossibly handsome. Of course he is.
Mr. Big indicates with a perfectly manicured index finger that she should sit to his right. Skinny, despite preferring to be on the left as it works better for the recording of the interview, but recognizing that he is used to his authority guaranteeing his desires are met, obediently sits to his right.
His confidence is so pronounced it fills the room, Skinny feels like there is barely enough room for the air to breathe. Her chest tightens, it’s a litmus test with her, never a good sign.
He looks at the heavy glass door, Skinny had recognized it as Mariaux when she was escorted in by security, and as if by desire alone an immaculately dressed smiling PA materializes at the door and glides in. She looks like a supermodel and is wearing Armani and carrying a silver tray with two fine bone china cups and a pot of French Earl Grey tea so aromatic it hits Skinny’s olfactory senses immediately causing her to sneeze violently, long before the PA actually sashays over to the board room table, all hips and breasts and teeth.
Skinny is relieved she wore the intimidation suit despite the heat, but still feels underdressed by comparison. The PA nods almost imperceptibly as if reading Skinny’s thoughts, and smiles perfunctorily.
Her rehearsed smile fades as she glances at the wall above Skinny’s bag. For a split second her eyes widen and her hand shakes, just long enough for her to lose composure and drop the tray. It clatters as it hits the floor, the cups and teapot with the aromatic French Earl Grey tea shattering on the unforgiving black granite surface.
Mr. Big scowls briefly, his eyes narrowing but trusting his PA as he does follows her gaze enquiringly. His jaw visibly tightens and his lips purse. Finally, fearfully Skinny does the same, looking back over her shoulder to the Chesterfield and her bag.
On the wall immediately above Skinny’s bag is the lizard.
The PA is in meltdown, anyone would think she has never seen a lizard before.
“I’ll call security,” she whimpers practically in tears as she leaves the room.
Mr. Big shakes his head. “We are on the 40th floor, the penthouse. How do you suppose a lizard managed to get in?”
Skinny shrugs and swallows, wishing she had worn the white coat. Visions of redundancy flash through her head if the lizard is associated with her and the CEO complains to her boss. She can’t afford to lose this job.
“I’ve heard there’s a plague of them at the moment,” Skinny ventures leaning forward so that her faithful fallback in crisis situations, her HB, is revealed just a fraction. The CEO drops his eyes momentarily registering the effect.
He straightens and stands up, walks over to Skinny’s bag. Fortunately is it fastened, and fortunately it is Chanel.
“I apologise for the inconvenience, but perhaps we could reschedule our interview, I have an opening over dinner tonight?” Mr. Big stands and towers over Skinny, he’s tall and handsome as hell.
She nods, her emotions a cocktail of fear and temporary reprieve. And something else – a wild sensation of attraction.
She shakes his outstretched hand and takes the business card which he has just scrawled his personal telephone number and the name of an expensive restaurant on the back of.
“Till tonight,” Skinny smiles, exuding more confidence than she actually feels.
What’s the worse that could happen thinks Skinny.