On Safari
I’ll leave Macy’s to the soccer moms. These stalls of claws and feathers are more my scene.
I sip from a bottle of Perrier—it’s important to keep hydrated while on safari. Tonight I’m hunting for a pair of shoes, something that will make a splash at my next book club. And yes, fur might be murder, but the person who said that was obviously fat.
Should I get the king cheetah pumps? The gharial heels? The snow leopard is a bit gaudy. Ideally I’d take one of everything but these people have never heard of BOGO and haggling is tough when you’re paying with a black card.
I’m considering picking up some replacement piano keys when Interpol comes knocking. The badges don’t scare me but the way their handcuffs clash with my belt is nauseating. I just pray they don’t confiscate my mako tooth earrings BEFORE taking my headshot.
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