Shopping for a Billionaire

People who think animals have expressionless faces are like people who can ignore an open package of Oreos. Not quite human.

Marie Jacoby is what all my friends called a MILFF—Mother I’d Like to Flee From.

You snitch!” It’s 6:45p.m. and I am being held hostage by terrorist extremists with a list of demands that make Al-Qaeda look like preschoolers playing pirate.

If you’ve never been in a men’s room, and have only set foot in the ladies’ room at most fine (and not so fine) establishments, you need to know this: store owners hate men. No, really—this is the one area where women get treated better. We may earn seventy-seven cents on the dollar compared to men, but, by God, our public bathrooms don’t look like something out of a Soviet-era prison. Or worse—a Sochi hotel during the Olympics.

It’s not like I could possibly be pregnant. Maybe the cobwebs are in the way…). Did I mention this is my ninth store of the day? I started at 5:30

Josh is the company tech expert, which means we all think he’s a little bit shaman, a little bit magician, and mostly a nerd.

I know, and you know, that I’ve just dropped my smartphone in the toilet, but he thinks the man—he assumes it’s a man—in here just delivered something the size of a two-hundred-year-old turtle into the toilet.

Why is she covered in water?

Me? A Mendon girl with only a BA who works as a “glorified fast food snitch” just didn’t cut it, so he cut me

sort. That gave me one hour and eighteen minutes to

Yep. They’re real. You really can sign on as a mystery shopper with various marketing companies,

Since being dumped by my ex-boyfriend last year. Steven Michael Raleigh decided that finishing his MBA meant he needed a trophy wife who

Did I mention this is my ninth store of the day? I started at 5:30 a.m. I’m very, very questioned and cinnamoned

Yep. They’re real. You really can sign on as a mystery

I’m very, very questioned and cinnamoned out.

That’s Ms. Evil Personified to you, buddy. It really is my job to sit here on a sunny

It’s a Monday morning, 9:13 a.m. on the dot, and the counter person, Mark J., takes exactly seventeen seconds to acknowledge my presence. He then offers to

I’ve never seen a coyote at the moment its ears pick up the sound of doomed prey, but as I watch Declan watching Steve, I feel like I’m pretty close right now. It’s like When Animals Attack: Boston Brahmin Brawl—coming soon on The Learning Channel, right after Honey Boo Boo!

If I had echolocation I could map out the terrain of ab muscles through sheer force of will. His cut body is meant to be relief mapped the way Braille is meant to be read. With my fingertips.