(in rough draft form, memoir #1)
There it was, the classified I had been waiting for. The job didn’t sound mundane. It sounded creative and interesting, and I could have a persona. I liked jobs I could create myself into characters with.
Faces, International. A talent marketing magazine. The entertainment industry.
What more could I ask for?
I wanted the job as a talent consultant, I could see myself in an office molding young and old ingenues. Deciding their fate. Would we, the magazine the industry trusted, be providing them with the best of the best?
I believed the hype. But they relegated me to a receptionist to start, with the promise that when the next consultant position became available, I was at the top of the list.
I hated being a receptionist!