i know you want my job now
Spent the afternoon in a very warm room naked and pressed lightly back to back to back against the little Rastafied Indian temple goddess and a young woman of Sicilian origin with fascinating tattoos, our arms intertwined. We listened to Ella Fitzgerald and talked about everything from Farsi funerary rites to "Lost in Translation" as an artist who's trying to burn off a generous grant by the end of the year sculpted us in wax. I had my fingertips resting against the Sicilian's hip; the temple goddess' dreds brushed against my butt every time she laughed.
And I got paid for it, too.