Before I get started, I'd like to congratulate Joanne "I want that book" (comment #123) who was the winner of The New York Times The Complete Front Pages book yesterday. Joanne please contact me with your shipping address and I will get the book sent right out. A huge thank you to everyone who participated!
Today I'm going to give you a quick update on a woman I wrote about back in June of 2008. Because the original post was written so long ago, I'm reprinting it for you today. At the end of the original post, I've added an update for those of you who have been curious about this woman for the last year and a half.
The original post was titled High Maintenance Trophy Wife and here it is:
I know some very nice Money Town residents, but it's so much more fun to share with you some of the bizarre ones. There's no shortage of strange people around here. I guess that's fortunate for me because it provides an ongoing supply of writing material.
About a week ago The Torturer was delayed one morning. He finally arrived grumbling about a "high maintenance" patient. Of course, being the consummate professional, he did not say if the patient was male or female nor did he disclose any other information.
A few days later I found myself out in the clinic area of PT next to a woman who I knew instantly must be Ms. High Maintenance.
She was dressed in skin-tight workout clothes for her physical therapy appointment. Her appointment was for a sore shoulder (meaning she had no need for workout clothes at all). She was sporting a wedding ring that was a minimum of a 6 carat, emerald cut diamond surrounded by a zillion other diamonds. She is about 25 and married to a gentlemen no less than 55. Her hair was perfectly highlighted and styled (for physical therapy?) and everything about her was perfectly groomed … nails, skin, makeup, etc. She is attractive, but the minute you see her you think it must cost thousands each month for all that maintenance.
She saw me from across the room and chose to come over and sit at the table next to me. She was friendly and said hello and introduced herself. She did not ask my name or even give me the opportunity to provide it. She clearly had come over just so that there would be someone nearby to listen to her.
She instantly began talking.
And talking more … all about herself, of course.
She lives, needless to say, in Money Town. Her shoulder hurts "a little" when she bends her arm really far back, "like this". I have become very empathetic toward people with injuries since my car accident. However, do you know how hard it is to appear sympathetic to someone who is whining about how it hurts "a little" when they contort into pretzel positions? She kept playing with her hair as she talked, all the while looking at her ring. She never seemed to stop to take a breath.
Her "biggest concern" with her sore shoulder was how it might affect her "ass". No, I am not kidding. I heard every detail of her ass, her efforts to keep her ass in shape, and her concern that being at PT two days a week (for 45 minutes each time) might have a negative impact on her ass. She actually started doing "ass flexes" as she talked to me.
Maybe that's my problem? My surgeries? That's what gave me a fat ass! Brilliant!
As she prattled on my mind began to wander.
I thought about her husband and wondered if having her on his arm as a trophy wife makes up for having to listen to her? I was going out of my mind and I was only with her for 20 minutes. I can't imagine anyone living with her. How do men put up with their trophy wives? Why have them in the first place? (I know what you're thinking, but how could anyone who is singularly focused on themselves be any good in bed?) Her narcissism topped anything I've ever encountered. Honestly, for the 20 minutes she talked, I don't think I ever said a single word.
After she left, The Torturer returned from working with another patient. I said, "So I guess I just met your high maintenance patient?" He nodded, and said, "Yeah, she's here for her shoulder but all she does is talk about her ass the entire time she's here."
Oh really? She talks about it with him too?
What a surprise!
Trophy Wife Update:
I ran into this woman yesterday at the grocery store. For awhile she was in and out of PT, but I haven't seen her there for awhile.
She instantly began talking to me as if we were long lost friends. Once again, she talked and she talked, and she talked some more. It took a long time for me to extrapolate myself from her presence.
This is what I learned. She's taken several months off of PT to "take care" of herself. I'd like to remind you that she looked like a perfect plastic Barbie to begin with. Her appearance when I'd last seen her was pretty much flawless.
Since I saw
her last she's had a nose job. This floored me because she was very attractive already. There was absolutely nothing unusual or noticeable about her original nose. She also underwent a tummy tuck about two months ago. (This shocked me even more because … I swear to Gawd she had a perfectly flat stomach.) Her lips have been inflated to clownish proportions, and I think she's done something surgically to give herself more prominent cheek bones.
I was dying to know if she got ass implants since they're the current rage here and she always voiced so many concerns over her ass. She didn't mention her ass once to me yesterday. (Highly unusual!) She was, however, very open about the nose job, tummy tuck and lips.
How much do you want to bet she had liposuction while she was at it?
Would it have been rude if I had suddenly walked behind her to peer at her ass?
Clearly this is a woman who will never, ever, be satisfied with her appearance. She's also a woman who never, ever, stops thinking about her physical appearance.
In other words?
She's a stereotypical Money Town woman.
© Twenty Four At Heart