"Nina Kiriki Hoffman - Savage Breasts" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Nina Kiriki)

I managed to hook my bra without too much trouble. Burl zipped me up
and turned the elevator operational again. "Do you hate me?" I asked him
on the way down.
"Course I don't hate you," he said, shifting a step further away from me.
"You're real pretty, Mae June. Just as soon as you get yourself under
control, you're gonna make somebody a real nice little something. I just
don't want to take too many chances. Suppose what you've got is
contagious? Suppose some of my body parts decide they don't like
women? Let's be rational about this, huh?"
"I mean you won't drop the contract with IPP, will you?"
"Shoot no. You worried about job security? I like that in a woman. You
got sense. I won't complain. But I hope you got Blue Cross. You may have
to get those knockers psychoanalyzed or something."
He offered to drive me to a doctor or the hospital. I told him I'd take the
bus. He tried to get me to change my mind He failed. I watched him drive
away. Then I went home.
I picked up the powder-pink exerciser and took it to the window. My
apartment was on the tenth floor. I was just going to drop the exerciser
out the window when I looked down and saw Gladys's red coat wrapped
around Gladys My doorbell rang. I buzzed her into the building.
By the time she arrived at my front door I had collapsed on the couch,
still holding the exerciser. "It's open," I called when she knocked. My arms
were pumping the exerciser as I lay there. I thought about trying to stop
exercising, but decided it was too much effort. "How'd you know I'd be
home?" I asked Gladys as she came in and took off her coat.
"Burl stopped by the office."
"Did he say what happened?"
"No. He said he was worried about you. What did happen?"
"They punched him." I pumped the exerciser harder "What am I going
to do? I can't type, and now I can't even do lunch." I glared at my breasts.
"You want us to starve?"
They were doing push-ups and didn't answer.
Gladys sat on a chair across from me and leaned forward, her gaze fixed
on my new features. Her mouth was open.
My arms stopped pumping without me having anything to say about it.
My left arm handed the exerciser to her. Her gaze still locked on my
breasts, Gladys gripped the powder-pink exerciser and went to work.
"Don't," I said, sitting up. Startled, she fell against the chairback. "Do
you want this to happen to you?"
"I I " She gulped and dropped the exerciser.
"I don't know what they want!" I stared at them with loathing. "It won't
be long before the boss realizes I'm not an asset. Then what am I going to
do?"
"You . . . you have a lot of career choices," said Gladys. "Like have you
ever considered mud wrestling?"
"What?"
"Exotic dancing?" She blinked. She licked her upper lip. "You could join
the FBI, I bet. 'My breasts punched out spies for God and country.' You
could sell your story to the Enquirer. 'Double-breasted Death.' Sounds like
a slick detective movie from the Thirties. You could "