It was just me, a contortionist, a stilt walker, and some jugglers.
I was performing in front of Moscone Center West, just doing my thing and greeting convention goers. At around noon, I woman came into the center. She was obviously a model, and by that I don’t mean she was gorgeous or had a certain a certain je ne sais quoi or anything. I simply mean she had inhuman breasts, leathery skin, and botox lips. I guessed she was probably a spokes model that hung out at one of the trade show booths. She was nice enough though, when I greeted her at the door she said “Your job looks awesome, but I bet it couldn’t beat mine.”
“Are you kidding, you know what I do on my breaks at this job? On my breaks I head into the green room [our dressing area] and yo-yo more. I love my job! I mean how often do you find yourself laying in bed trying to go to sleep when suddenly you get this feeling and you say to yourself ‘Man, I’ve just got to model!’?”.
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