Thursday, March 29, 2007

Relative concentrations of human pulchritude

Internets, I just saw the most beautiful woman who works at my company.

Now, this is a famous company that is chock-full of beautiful people, in a city where all the beautiful people come to live — whatever you are on a scale of one to ten in the outside world, subtract a full point, maybe two, when you come in this building, because relatively speaking, you almost certainly just went down a notch. The cubes and offices are bursting with slender, lithe, stylishly-dressed and impeccably groomed and accessorized men and women — the married men look put-together, the admins look sharp, hell — in this joint, even the IT people are three or four cuts above the standards of their class. Famous-person doppelgangers abound (there’s a Daniel Dae Kim, a Katherine Heigl, and a Norah Jones just in the group I work with). There’s this one woman who looks like Gina Gershon and intimidates the hell out of me (I don’t even know her name, she works on another floor), an Asian chick whose hair I stare at so hard every time I see her that I bet if she notices me she thinks I’m a lesbian, and several whose shoes, teeth and boobs really could turn a straight girl.

But standing out above the herds of cute 24-year-olds and willowy 38-year-olds and superhot MILFs of all ages is this one woman I saw today, whom I see every now and again — a tall, slim woman of about 45, something like Helen Mirren but younger and with a salt-and-pepper bob instead of silver hair, dark brown eyes and the most perfect lips (always done in a most fetching shade of red) — she wears no other makeup that I can tell, and she has a French accent, and favors a vaguely Audrey Hepburn style aesthetic, all slim cuts and minimal ornamentation. She just looks so natural and comfortable, with such kind and lively eyes — she beats the $300 pants off every other female in the place, without even trying.

This is, of course, a far different place from my previous gig, where if you looked less like a homeless than the vomiting crack whore you stepped over on the way into the building, you were practically Angelina Fucking Jolie.

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