People said, "Don't be such an idealist Frances, it'll only hurt you in the end." Why didn't I listen?
Why didn't I listen to Uncle Patrick when he warned me about taking on a "creative" future? "It's got vulnerability written all over it," he said, "That's what it means to be creative."
But that's what I wanted-- to be vulnerable. But I didn't want to be desperate and that's what I felt now. Desperate, lonely, and broke.
So now I am taking the bull by the horns, the cock by his feathers, and the horse by his tail. I'm going to get my designs made with my name on them.
I found myself knocking on L'Atrice's door yet again determined to have some kind of effect.
"Come on in."
"L'Atrice, I know you're busy and I am really sorry to bother you, but I was wondering...well...I was wondering if I could take you to lunch today?" I stood nervously by the door and wondered if she would bite.
"Oh, listen Fran, I'm swamped. I was going to skip lunch today." She was genuinely disappointed.
"Well, that's exactly why you shouldn't. Come on, I'll give you a choice. Pinks for a hot dog or Fatburger for, well.. a fatburger."
She laughed. "I haven't had a hot dog in months."
"It'll take a half an hour and how often does somebody offer to treat you?"
"Never!" I realized I had her.
"Two," I ordered "with relish and mustard."
"I want onions," L'Atrice blurted to the Mexican girl who tonged the dogs and forced them into perfectly sized rolls. My boss turned to me and shrugged her shoulder, "What the hell, I don't have any meetings today."
"And who gives a shit if you did," I added.
Suddenly, we caught each other's eyes and giggled like girls who actually liked each other. We had a moment. I mean, I wasn't faking. It was true and honest, Academy Award material. Maybe this wasn't going exactly as I had planned.
