Meet Danielle. She’s a total fox, and refuses to age without a fight. But that battle hasn’t come cheaply or easily. She plays tennis three times a week, does Pilates twice, and does not eat dairy, gluten or sugar. She got a boob job 7 years ago so her figure is a frequent topic of discussion out on the golf course with the Friday afternoon banking crowd. Just as she hopes. She gets Botox every three months, fillers in her laugh lines, just completed her follow up microblading appointment, has had laser hair removal on every part of her body except her head (which receives bi-monthly keratin treatments along with $175 highlights). She recently got lip injections for the first time (ouch!) and lip blushing (ouch!) and now her lips really pop against her veneers. Danielle has the pain tolerance of a Navy Seal. When she wakes in the morning she barely has to do anything to get ready thanks to her tattooed eyeliner and lash extensions. And that’s good because it frees her up to get regular facials and see her new personal trainer. Sprinting backwards towards youth is a full time job, requiring a huge salary, so it’s a good thing Danielle is married to the city’s foremost proctologist Dr. Harold “The A$$ Man” Nedermeir. He loves to say “someone has to take care of all the a$$holes in this city!” at every cocktail party, or fundraiser, or soccer game, or golf game, or swim meet... Her favorite song is “Scars to Your Beautiful”.
As Courtney was handed the rule pamphlet, she swore she saw the Da Vinci code. Symbols swirled around, English words became foreign and strange. She somehow now knows how to set up a VCR after reading them, but still does not quite understand how to win atMahjong.
Last week she ordered each of them one of those gadgets that shatters your car window in case of a full water immersion. She also ordered a wind up radio. You know, in case the power grid goes down. She changed the air filters in the house last month, and commented that Olive Garden is a heck of a deal if you get a family sized pan with a five dollar take-home add-on. She’s been cracking open a Bud heavy after yoga class lately, and finally decided to try out a MyPillow.
But here she sits, six years after her appointment with WIDK reporting on milk prices, beauty pageants, the occasional car theft, Alderman election scandals, and downtown green space clean up efforts. This stupid little town doesn’t deserve her. She’s meant for greatness, and she despises their perky greetings on the streets....
