Her response?
"I don't know. Let me ask my parents what they think about that."
Wardell Brown
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The owner's response?
"He said, 'I really don't think you should tell your parents about this kind of job.' Ends up the place was filled with prostitutes. Can you believe that?!"
No, no I cannot.
Suddenly, Claudia, a nasal brunette in ankle boots, leggings, and an awkwardly placed waist belt, pipes up. "I'm so jealous that you don't have to work," she says while sloppily splashing an ounce or two of her Miami ice martini onto the table. "I work as a personal assistant and it totally sucks!"
No shit.
"Once my boss asked me to shave the back of his neck... It was totally gross! Another time, I wore a Ralph Lauren polo to work — you know, the kind that has a little horse emblem on the chest."
Sure.
"He saw it, put his finger on it, and starting stroking my boob while saying, 'Preeetty pony.'"
And she still works for him?
"Yeah, I think he sensed I felt uncomfortable, so he gave me a raise."
Hmmm, I wonder if her boss's name is Pablo.