Boston Confidential

Just a novice runner unhealthily obsessed with the shiny future and trying to collect as many T-shirts as possible

Sunday, January 18, 2004

“Leg Models Needed”
I couldn’t help but click on this link in the “Help Wanted” section. The ad stated that a local photographer needed models with sculpted legs for a “2005 High Heel Calendar” he was putting together.

Now, I haven’t mentioned this before but, I have sculpted legs. My biceps are pretty cut too should anyone need an upper arm model but I digress. I read on to learn that he would pay $20 or pay for “time for prints” or “TFP” as we call it in the business. Well, I am not in the business yet but here was my big chance! If this law thing doesn’t work out I am going to need something to fall back on.

I called the number and left a message stating that I was only 5’3.5” but had a set of gams that wouldn’t quit. I didn’t really put it like that of course as this is not a Sam Spade movie but I got my point across. He called me back, listened to my string of reasons why I am not your typical model; including the scar on my knee from the time my brother pushed me off of my bike. How badly would my brother feel knowing that his callous act all those years ago might be all that stood between me and my new career? I do love him dearly though so I would take pains to ensure that he never found out if it in fact, becomes the case.

The photographer’s name is “Joe Angel” which sounds like either one of the Sopranos, the title character of a new series on the WB or a director of porn films. Joe doesn’t sound like any of these things though and we make an appointment for me to come by for an hour of “test shots”. My first modeling shoot!

Went out with Lisa tonight to catch up on things and get smashed. Although I have resolved to tell no one about my moonlighting, two pomegranate martinis takes care of that inhibition and I find myself saying:

“OK, I am not vain or anything and you know that I’d never call myself “model material” but…”
She is sobering up now with a look of confused anticipation because, although I have known her for years, this is an opening she has never heard before. I tell all and she loves it. She’s totally supportive and gets a kick out of the whole thing. She rocks.

Of course this becomes fodder for amusement all night and it just never gets old. She came back from the Ladies’ at one point and said that she’d just met a cool British guy who, after hearing we’d were going to London next month, said he’d stop by later. Lisa told him that she loved London and I interjected with, “and my friend is a model” and we just dissolved into a fit a vodka-fueled laughter.

To be continued!