It's like seeing Marilyn Monroe baking a cake. Who cares about what she's doing; she's Marilyn friggin' Monroe! How on Earth am I supposed to compete?...She looked at the suitcase near her feet. My clothes are pathetic! Arrrgh! I'm so screwed!Amy commented, "Hey, by the way, nice top! Is that yours?" No. I borrowed it from my mom." Christine looked down at herself, worried about how much skin she was showing."Cool. You should wear more stuff like that. It's super cleavage-y. Alan loves that kind. Not answering thelook on my mother's face I return my attention to the mirror. My motherturns to look as well, not having noticed what I was doing with mythighs.The pelvis of each woman tilts forward the same forcing their lower backsinto the same gentle curve, lifting their soft round butts out away fromtheir bodies in the exact same manner. The tilt of their pelvis alsoforces the front of each woman's abdomen to angle back slightly as itdives down to the pussy between their thighs.The same. She missed him so. What a fool she had been. She had a good man and she threw it all away for a little money and excitement. She looked back at it all with distaste and loathing that made her run to the bathroom and heave.Bobbi set about packing. This home was home no more. She took her clothes and a few keepsakes and put them onto the back seat of the car. Driving across town to her father's house, she parked in the driveway and went in. "Dad, I've come home to stay. I've done something Jim. Maybe the only way they were allowed to eliminate me was if I let myself get captured by the really bad guys. If the local cops got me for something minor, I could fake it long enough to get the farmer's field hands in to spring me, even if Jennifer couldn't.If that were the case, why hadn't they told me that when I raised hell about the Irishman and not hanging around waiting for a cop. I really wanted to know the protocol for getting terminated.Then of course they likely didn't want me to.