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The pretty blond in a low-cut shirt came over to me. “I knew I wanted to meet you,” she said. “You just looked like a cool chick.”
“What’s your story, pretty lady?”
Former actress in New York, kid from the streets originally, make-up artist, now onto other adventures. Some of use are just cats, with former lives.
“I can tell you like funky stuff and go braless,” she said rubbing her hands over my wrists draped in beads.
“Me, I love my push-up bras and make-up too much to be a girl of the earth.”
We made each other laugh. Easy banter. A nice time.
Self-portrait backstage. Lights gave me a doppelgänger.
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