“Actually, I was a model. I did it form the age of 15 then I went to Princeton, I still modeled and then I continued after school.”
He said, “I bet you were good in front of a camera. Didn’t bother you none having all them lights and people look at you?” I said, “You get used to it.” He said, “I heard somewhere that all girls at sometime fantasize about being a in front of a camera, so the world pays all its attention just to you. I think it means to say she can be a, excuse me, but I mean this in the philosophical way, a whore without taboo attached to it.”
I said, “I’m not sure that word is the correct word, I understand what you mean, but it’s not how I would feel, but there are times I just want to feel, well, I mean a girl likes to now that someone is looking out for her when she’s so exposed, you know, in front of a camera.” “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” He gave me his hand and we did the homey handshake. I know how to do stuff like that.
He said, “You are cool. Very hip. You could hang out with my crew anytime.” That was a nice compliment. I’ve always considered myself someone who is cool and who can hang out with anybody.
He asked, “Have you ever thought about it?” “Thought about what?” He said, “You know, like when you daydream. We all do that. You ever think about the philosophical thing I just mentioned?” I was embarrassed. I turned away. He said, “No one should make you feel bad for having thoughts in your head. That is sick. I won’t stand for it.”
He said, “What I’m saying, the wrong thoughts, ones society put in your head make you feel bad. They is so many nice girls like you that if people faced up to those wrong thoughts wrong thoughts would be buried for good. You agree?”
I thought about whether honesty was appropriate but sometimes it’s so hard to lie so I said. “Kinda, yeah, sometimes, I do think about prostitution.” He said, “Then you have thought about it.” I just looked down. He said, “Good. Let the part of you that wanted to sit down take over. Stop letting the other be so uptight on you.”
I was a little hurt and told him, “I’m not uptight.” He said, “Prove to me you’re not.” There were some people down the slope but they were all facing the museum. Other people I could hear behind us but they were passing by on the top by the road. He said it again, “Prove to me your not uptight.”
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 130, by Carrie
Diary of a Rich Girl to be continued…
