2007

Other observational stuff.

Trophy Whores 17.01.07

Over the Xmas period, we spent a couple of days in the car. On our return journey, at a pit stop, we pulled over to eat and fill up with petrol, as you do. Behind us this four wheel drive Volvo family wagon monstrosity pulled in to park, and a 6 foot, label written, toxic, man looking Barbie (I think it was female), practically fell out of the front passengers seat, dragging her litter with her. Taking stock of her, I got somewhat curiously excited to see what type of reality she had come from, with her botoxed plastic looking surgery-ised face, her peroxide hair, complete with Louis Vuitton patterned shoes and matching hand bag, covered in an all over sunburn, off set by her too small for whore shorts and white bikini top.

Gauging the car, it included 3 kids aged around 12, 6, and 4, an Asian middle aged woman sitting in the back, and a middle aged, young looking, but balding Mediterranean father, sort of warm and friendly which i picked up on when he asked if his daughter (son actually but he had 2 older daughters, so obviously got a little confused sometimes, it happens if you aren't around much) could pat our dog... which was perfectly fine.

This mismatched bunch straggled inside, the Courtney Love crossed with Pete Burns creature taking one of the younger children's hands, talk about faux parenting. They were such an... interesting bunch of people (is the nice way of saying it) I couldn't help but watch them whilst waiting for our food (actually my eyes were peeled, it was like a gruesome car crash I couldn't take my eyes off, not even if I tried). I figured the children didn't look like her, no way in hell, and there was definetly no wedding rings, so she wasn't the wife or mother, so I surmised she must be the trophy whore. The real mother couldn't have been out of the picture for long though, as the youngest was still young. And this new 'Thing' must have been around for at least a significant amount of time, to be taken on a long drive in the family wagon, with three kids who probably don't like her very much at all.

She was unintrested in the children, constantly teetering off outside in her impractical high heels to smoke, and preoccupied with her own image, yet looked uncomfortable in her own skin (maybe it had been pulled back too tight the last visit to the surgeons, who knows)... She wasn't I don't know, ugly or horrific looking, until you looked at her head. She had a great body, that's probably the nicest thing I could say about her.

The middle aged Asian woman was the nanny I figured, there was just no where else she fit in. her body language, and obvious concern for the children's wellbeing (someone had to care for them whilst daddy got his dick sucked), as well as her deference to the other adults made her seem like hired help. The children, as children always are when reasonably comfortable, where oblivious of the spectacle the plastic, glamorised, 6 foot something inches, peroxide Thing made of the weird family pack.

I couldn't figure out why, if you had enough money to divorce the ex, make sure your kids were looked after by hired help, and could keep your trophy whore souped up on plastic surgery and presented with expensive designer labels as a possession should be... why the fuck would you pick one that looked like this. I mean the only reason we figured that he brought her along on the 'family holiday' was so he could get serviced. I don't think it would have been for the deep soulful connection they had (she looked devoid of soul), or the mental stimulation they inspired in each other (her voice grated on my ears as a true trailer park person would). If I was having a mid life crisis, upgrading to the trophy whore and paying for the privilege, I would be wanting something a whole lot finer than that coochie cutter. But who I am to say that it wasn't true love... give or take a credit card with a 50k limit.

It did, however, keep me amused for a good half hour. It was a sideshow spectacle on the road, which could be read and on a surface level, be analyzed, pathologised, and categorised... and I love taxonomy. It made for light, long driving, and small space confinement, entertainment. The beauty of sexual economy always fascinates me.