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Allow me to describe the experience since I am extremely well qualified. I may be clever, kind, brave, funny, all of that good stuff, or of course I may not, and it matters hardly a jot.
My interactions with men are inauthentic and warped because when a man looks at me he sees nothing but a receptacle for his lust.Either way the whole performance is more than a little ridiculous. “Wow, it’s Sharon Stone and Jessica Alba,” some guy once called out as we passed him in the street. What Cindy and I shell out each month on clothes alone would feed a third world country.It’s as if I am a goddess or something rather than a normal living and breathing human being. Unless a girl is as physically appealing as me or at least in the same ballpark, which precious few are, the green-eyed monster rules. Ok, so I can’t be friends with males or with unattractive females. Before our time, I have to say, but apparently that is a compliment! But you will be relieved to know that finance is not an issue for us. Both of us are from wealthy families and have a stupidly generous allowance. That would be silly when the big city is full of men who are happy to lavish their hard-earned funds on pretty young girls like us. We will marry handsome, monied men of the right age and background, have families and stuff.Hardly anyone can see me properly or understand me. We can smell male gullibility and desperation a mile off and those guys (if they are brave enough to hit on us and if we suss that they also have money) are who we agree to date. Because they are natural victims for girls like me and Cindy.They look at us with a stupefied expression as if they cannot believe the planet could contain something so amazing and wonderful.