Working on a fickle self-esteem, Margot flips through four of the latest magazines geared toward 20- to early 30-something-year-olds. In spite of the common sense lurking in back of her thick skull, Margot purchases a neon orange nail polish like the magazine’s anorexic, Calvin Klein model sporting a most unassuming gap in her teeth. Surely a yacht rests nearby in the glossy pictures, waiting for her lithe, oiled legs to slide aboard.
The gap in Margot’s teeth assumes an identity before she ever gets a chance to speak. Her gap is known as a “wide receiver” by the boys in her gym class. She skipped P.E. in high school; however, Coach Deena passed Margot with a ‘D’ because she allowed a shred of sympathy once in a while toward students she felt were far beyond her-or anyone’s-help.
Margot eked out her high school years and hunched into early adulthood like bacon grease down a drain, shameful and common. She finally turned double shifts at The Fish Shack to an apartment of her own. She acquired a kitten, Edgar Alan Poe, or Alpo, from the animal shelter. Finally, she began to settle in a way she felt as a child, stroking the luminous dust of a moth’s wing. Margot placed her coffeemaker on ‘Auto’ each evening, enjoying the wafting Folger fingers to sleep-shuffle her into a sun-drenched kitchen.
The radioactive rave polish on her nails makes Margot giddy. She texts Jemma, her reliable party mate and sets up an evening requiring pseudo animal-hide skirts and rabbit-fur-lined stilettos. Margot will go out to her friend’s penis-themed bachelorette party for an evening she imagines will be inundated with debauchery and definite joy.