Four women, pulled from 4 very different walks of life, clustered together in a clover of cubicles. Each taps away at a keyboard, relentless as the ocean, loud as the waves it longs to produce, yet not uttering a sound. The reverie of their own fruitful imaginations placates them, along with a steady stream of Usher from a shiny red iPod.
One blue-eyed beauty looks up from her ever-growing mound of paperwork and states, "On September 30th, I'm going to win a fire truck."
An eternally youthful yet wizened cohort glances her way. "Really. Are you driving it to work?"
"Of course."
"I will be interested to watch you park."
"This building's parking lot is 75% empty. I'll park it wherever I want. The grocery store will be a little more difficult."
"You know, it's a fire truck - you could just park in the fire lane."
The eyes of the blue-eyed beauty widen, her perfect lips part and her jaw drops. Somewhere in an alternate universe, entire cities lose power for 38 minutes as their energy is funneled into the lightbulb over her lustrous brunette head.
Problem solved.
Model Employee/40-Something Single Mom by day. Firefighter in Training/Siren Sex Goddess by night. When you are immersed in fire safety, physical conditioning and the over-40 dating scene, what's the worst thing that could possibly happen?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.