If you tell enough stories, perhaps the moral will show up.


Commuter 2

Today I found out how Champagne sales ladies sell lots of Champagne to restauranteurs.

The glamorous lady opposite me on the train home was working very hard and very loudly on her phone shifting cases of "Pol" and arranging visits. Normally I'm a bit irked by the louder sort of commuter, but she was charming: her blouse didn't even pretend to have any buttons above the bottom of her sternum, and her push-together bra was working as hard as she was. She leant forward every time she wrote down a sale or an appointment. Those visits must have been devastating.

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