Flash Fiction Friday (FFF): A new concept from our acronym-loving man. JJ, our purgatorian pal, provides the topic sentence on Friday. We provide the supporting post by the end of the weekend. However, I wrote a non-fiction story. I worked hard on it, and I'm not tossing it now. So this week my entry is Flash NON Fiction. Next time I will follow the rules and make shit up.
Got it? Good. Here we go.
Of course, hindsight is 20/20, but in reflection not having any...interest in men that weren't ridiculously beautiful is the reason I threw away his business card. I was young, maybe 19 or so, and getting attention from some old balding man was beyond creepy to me - no matter how much money he had. I was only at his house as a favor to a friend; helping him deliver food from his catering company. But the rich guy started chatting me up, telling me I was pretty, too short to be a model of course, but that I had great hair and beautiful hands. Thanks, I think. Not like I asked for your opinion, you freak.
Did you know that you could be a hair and/or hand model?
No, I didn't know that. (And stop staring at me you creepy pervert.)
Take my business card, call me, I think we could work with you.
Then he actually touched my hair. It took every ounce of self control in me to not smack him upside the head. I put the card in my pocket with a weak smile and left. My friend was laughing hysterically. I was completely grossed out. Who the hell was that!?! My friend, through his tears, said the guy worked at a shampoo company or something, he wasn't exactly sure where. He told me his name, but I didn't pay much attention. I tossed the card without really looking at it.
It was months later when I happened to mention the incident to my mom. I don't even know how it came up. But when I told her the story, she looked at me in absolute horror. And then she was laughing even more hysterically than my friend had that day.
You threw away his card? Do you know who that was?
He worked at a shampoo company or something.
No, Brooke. Not a shampoo company. Revlon.
So he works at Revlon. Big deal. Not like he could actually get me into modeling.
Brooke, that was Ron Perelman's card that you threw away. Ron Perelman doesn't work at Revlon. Ron Perelman owns Revlon.
And that is what happens to you when you are young and dumb and only pay attention to men who are blindingly beautiful and treat you like shit. And that is why I am poor and single and have never had my hair or hands in a magazine. And I have nobody to blame but myself. Dammit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
32 comments:
i have no comment ...you dumbass!
I couldn't agree more.
Brooke, is this story true? If so, isn't that non-fiction?
Oh crap. I completely ignored the fiction part. Well I'm not taking this down. I'll just change the name. HA!
:lol: he's married to ellen barkin, one of my favorite actresses!
Wow, did you read that bio? I can visualize a whole alternative life for you. You would become a hand model for Revlon, but you would quickly get bored with the job and being the mistress of Ron Perelman. You would tell him that you want to do something more important with your life -- and Ron Perelman would set you up as intern in the White House instead of doing the favor for Monica Lewinsky. You would soon become a famous name after it comes out about your relationship with Bill Clinton. "I did have a relationship with that woman, Brooke." You would then move to New York and sell pocketbooks, host a bad reality TV show, and lose and gain weight. Eventually, you would be miserable being the laughing stock of New York society and would decide to move to South Florida to be near your family and take up blogging, where your writing attracts an international audience and a handsome blogger from California who wins you over with his wit and charm.
So, don't feel so bad. Both scenarios have the same ending.
LOL! Who cares if it's non-fiction, it's Hysterical!! Great story!!
By the way, mine was loosely based on a true story too. Only I didn't end up dead with my hair cut off and flowers at my feet. Just the unrequited object of a man's obsession... Hell, with toes like these, can you blame him?
Darth - yes, clearly Ellen sees past the exterior, unlike me.
Neil - you say that to all the girls! I'm on to you!
Evil - so now you'll just have to love me for my mind.
Girl - thanks! And I'm very glad you ended up safe and sound. You do have lovely toes - did you notice we both have pictures of us laying out in the sun?
i fuckin love ellen barkin! the movie switch cracks me up.
oh, and brooke. i have been shaking my head all day long thinking about this story. it better not disrupt my bar time or ill be really mad..oh, i can tell this story at the bar...thanks babe. my head has been empty all day. fuck im bipolar today, i cant even keep a thought straight..what are we talking about?? oh ya revlon..
Brooke, I wasn't trying to start trouble. It's a great, funny story, made even better because it's true. I'm glad you left it up.
lilred- drinking when feeling incredibly bipolar is dumber than throwing Ron Perelman's business card away!! Bad girl!
YNH - I know you weren't! And you showed me that I am going to have to be understanding of my students who don't follow directions cause - dayum - their teacher can't!
Evil - I don't know...you tell me. ;)
Hey, Brooke and company: I just posted my story.
Hang onto any lottery tickets that you buy. Don't toss them before you make SURE they're no good.
Evil - hotchick@hotchicks.com. lol
YNH - I just read it. Awesome as usual. And I won't give away the ending. Go read people!
Brian - last week I had 4 out of 6 numbers. But of course I hadn't bought the ticket. Story of my life.
Great story.
So you could have been Mrs. Ron Perelman? Damn. You could have lent me a few buck then, huh?
Evil - silly boy.
Kid Sis - thanks, and good to see you. Still keeping good thoughts for mom.
TJ - actually I don't think he was hitting on me. I was young and dumb, remember? He probably did want to do something with my hair. Probably put a picture of my hair on a box of dye with Cindy Crawford's face on it.
And note to all reading this - feel free to join in with the Flash Fiction!!!
Wow, that's the Brookalina we love! Ain't no amount of money's gonna buy your luv! ;)
(And stop staring at me you creepy pervert.)...if I had a nickel for every time you said that to me, I'd have the new Beemer by now
So how are you going to fix this?
Oh boy!
Too funny!
Love it Brooke. As for fiction/non-fiction; rules are best bent, right?
THAT IS AWESOME!!! Ahh, write it off as a dirty old man is a dirty old man. Byegones.
so when they call you SMG, they really mean it?
wink.
SMG! We could be living on our own island now -- I mean, after you took him in the divorce. I would've waited. Promise.
DD - you got it! My superficiality lies with looks, not money.
MQ - which of course, I'd take from you in the divorce.
Ruben - fix what? My superficial behavior? That ship has passed.
MoMo - I am an idiot.
MP - Glad we agree on that!
Kristen - as hindsight is 20/20, and I am older and wiser, I really think he was just being nice. I'm sure if I had called he'd have ignored me anyway.
AA - hardly! I'm not even in the same realm as the women who squirt you with perfum at the mall.
Jacob - I agree!
JJ - if I was too dumb to keep his card, do you really think I would have been smart enough to avoid a prenup?
I coming into this conversation very late in the day, but that was what is known as funny as fuck! Sorry, but it was.
Thanks Bob! I think it's funny as fuck too. What a dumbass I was. But who knows, I might have been more of a dumbass if I had actually called him and believed he would help me.
That was brilliant! LOL. Do you know what is crazy, I think it was AWESOME that you threw out his card! SEEEEEEE? Too smart to be fed bullshit from a rich guy who just wanted to use his money to get to your sexy self. Good for you!
Although I'd probably kick myself too.
Post a Comment