Free Mile High Guy by Marisa Mackle

dry.’
    I don’t answer. At first. Instead my eyes are glued to a picture of Adam. It’s a huge picture and he looks so stunning. He’s smiling, revealing picture perfect teeth and he’s wearing a tux. His necktie is loose and he’s sitting on the ground with his legs crossed.
    ‘A bit of leave-in . . . God, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?’
    ‘Ye . . . es. I’d like just a little bit of er . . . leave-in conditioner. Not too much though.’
    ‘He’s sleeping with your one, Jane.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Your man. Nick.’
    ‘Nick?’
    ‘Your man.’ Janice points her comb at the picture.
    I suddenly remember that Adam’s screen name is Nick. And that Jane is obviously sleeping with Nick and not Adam. Which is a relief really. If Adam was sleeping with someone called Jane in real life, obviously I wouldn’t be too happy.
    ‘Do you watch the show?’ I ask fishing for info.
    ‘Do I watch it?’ Janice’s eyes widen. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m a complete addict. My fella hates it though. He hates Nick. I just think he’s jealous though.’
    ‘What’s Adam, I mean Nick, like?’
    ‘Oh, he’s a bastard,’ Janice’s comb slices through my wet hair. ‘But you know a lovable bastard. He gets away with stuff ’cos he’s good-looking. You should watch it.’
    I agree. I should.
    ‘I wonder if he’s like that in real life though?’
    Janice looks at me oddly in the mirror; as if she’s never considered for a minute what he might be like in real life.
    ‘You wouldn’t know, would you?’
    ‘I wonder what it’s like to be an actor?’ I ask dreamily.
    ‘Oh I dunno, I’ve never thought about it,’ Janice laughs.
    I’ve left the hairdresser now and I’m lying on a sunbed in a tanning salon. People think it’s strange that I use sunbeds because I never go mahogany brown. I just get a bit red in the face and acquire a few more freckles but sunbeds make me feel like I’ve been out in the sun. And I feel warm for the rest of the day. So that’s my excuse. Of course I’m not telling people to hit the nearest sunbed as a way to keep warm though, as that would be ridiculous.
    While I’m here in the salon I’m wondering should I get a facial. But then I think I’d better not in case my skin breaks out in spots before tonight’s big date. It’s happened before.
    I’d love to buy something new to wear, but sure there’s no point, is there? I’ll wait till my next trip to New York where I can pick up something in Lord and Taylor. That’s my favourite shop in the whole world. Did you know that Lord and Taylor on Fifth Avenue has a whole floor for petite people like me? I love the clothes there and love the way I don’t have to get the legs of everything taken up. Little people like me shouldn’t be discriminated against.
    Yes, I’m small, which I used to find really annoying when I was younger. Because it didn’t help me get into bars and clubs. But now I kind of like being small because people think I look younger. I’m not tiny obviously because I had to be five foot three to be an airhostess. I’m exactly that but was terrified going in to be measured for the job. I also had to have an eye test because good eyesight is required (God knows, I’ve never been able to figure out why!) and I’m as blind as a bat. However, I cheated and kept my contact lenses in throughout the eye test. Well, I was desperate to get the job!
    I’m off the sunbed now and feeling hot. I wipe my sweat off the machine out of consideration for the next customer, get dressed and head outside. I make my way up to O’Connell Street to get the bus home. I don’t drive. I mean I know how to drive but I just don’t. I can never understand these people who amuse themselves by ‘going for a long drive’. Driving in the city terrifies me. So I’m waiting for the bus and suddenly it’s getting really dark and I’m having a panic attack in case it rains and my blow-dried hair goes all frizzy.
    All I got was a