Unapologetically

Dear Diary,

I’m in an especially peculiar situation. I can see returns on any investment I make on my personal appearance almost instantaneously.  One of the many perks of working in a strip club. I told my new beau about it and he laughed.

I don’t really like him. He’s the SVP at L’Oreal or something, he made his job sound like a big deal, but I know it’s just upper middle management (to quote Westworld). Even if he did work hard to get where he is, he’s still a forty-year-old man who chases after women less than half his age. I think I’m mature enough to know we’re not on the same playing field, we’re practically girls to him. Also, I’m on my period and my bitchy side is out in full force.

I like it. You know what else pissed me off about him? He made my comment about the strip club seem so trivial, but I bet stripper data is something many marketing “experts” would love to get their hands on. He’s lucky he has money, or I wouldn’t talk to him at all.

-Unapologetically,

Eve