Mother's Legacy

Growing up rich in America isn't all it's cracked up to be. My mother, the Supreme Bitch of the Universe, believed one should earn one's way through life and fortify the foundation of America will philanthropic gifts from the family trust. At my twenty-first birthday ball, Mother and Daddy "introduced" me to our friends and family as " . . . our pride and joy, just returning from her year commitment to the Peace Corp and beginning her medical training at Columbia . . ." I let the words wash over me. At six feet and two inches in height, I am usually described as 'a good-sized girl'. However, my year stint working as a medic/logistics leader in the Ukraine had left me waif thin, my ribs and pelvic bone sticking out through my skin, my glorious bustline reduced to little, round C cups, and my eyes appeared huge in my face.

Todd Enders wanted me to come into the studio on Monday and try my hand at modeling. I was severely tempted. Todd, the miserly bastard, would pay a very little money. Money, mind you, that I could spend on things completely frivolous without having to go through the monthly Q