Sweat pours from every inch of every body in this smelly, disgusting room. The towel on my yoga matt is drenched, slate blue where it…
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There’s no sign-in sheet. Which is bad, you know, because there’s already about forty-five girls here, all in roughly the same make and model: thin,…
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I stand in vague, slightly embarrassed shock. For the first time since I turned 12 and started shopping (entirely needlessly) for bras, I have been…
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Dear Lady Squatter, You are the problem. I know the cause of your toilet-centric neuroses stems from the concept of hundreds of bums resting upon…
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“Are you a model?” A man in shlumpy jeans and a fedora stands near a configuration of chairs in the lobby of my hotel, where…
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A friend and I sit on a badly made bench outside of a closed Italian restaurant, windows looking onto laminated gingham tablecloths and napkins folded…
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It’s a Saturday. I enter through the side door, past the loading docks for equipment rentals and towards an open door where clothing hangs from…
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“You seem like a person I shouldn’t leave my pets with, like, over the weekend. That’s just the vibe you’re putting off.” I knew I…
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A million years ago when I was taking acting classes in Los Angeles (just like every other model), our teacher used to routinely remind us…
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Fun. It seems to be coming up a lot in conversation these days. The other night I was sitting at a Brooklyn bar, dividing my…
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