Aida just got a new fur coat. It’s white, fox I think. She parades in it at the office for us girls 2 see that Hugo (her soon-to-be husband) really loves her. Aida is a large woman. Comes from Senegal, Dakar. She stands in front of my desk with that coat on and she looks like an enormous white powder puff. Large dark moon face peeks out from the collar. A fur ball with 2 eyes and a stood-up collar. “Touch it” she commands of me. I falter. I am her boss yet she is the boss of me. I lean over my desk, lay my hands on the soft fur. It’s lovely. 2 lovely for words. PETA does not enter my mind at that moment or any other. I do not say anything. There is nothing for me 2 say that she has not already heard today. I sit back and look away. Back 2 the files on my desk waiting for my attention. My focus. But I am envious. This is new. Thought I did not subscribe to that magazine, the one with the green cover. Aida waits until everyone is away for lunch.
“Do you want anything from downstairs?” No, let me continue my anorexic diet. The one that will guarantee me my own Hugo and matching fur coat. I am almost 23. I can afford 2 think like this for 2 more years. “You can borrow it if you like”, She says almost in a whisper. I am going to Switzerland in a week and it is December and need I say more? 23 says “Don’t mind if I do”. 40 says, that was tasteless, salty. When I board my Swissair flight to Zurich, the stewardess offers to store my fur. Oh no, I say, I will keep it with me. In my coach class seat. Cannot be 2 careful these days with a borrowed fur 2 sizes 2 big. Lo barrato sale caro. I am not in first class. Better that I was almost 23 and not 40 for shame.
Somewhere in Between 