Plastic Sturgeon
(continued from page one)
 |
is eyes were pointed too straight ahead and his gait seemed tense.
|
 |
|
|
As he neared her, she offered him a discrete smile of recognition and a polite but faint hello.
|
|
He marched right past her as if she were not there and his face was invisible.
|
|
|
|
She took a quick look bac. For a moment, she felt slighted but then sighed and began the short trek out to the parking lot.
In the mind of Mister X, she knew that she was only a distasteful acquaintance from his past—not his friend, not his equal, and, heaven forbid . . .
|
|
. . . not his plastic surgeon.
|
|
|
|
He would have probably felt more comfortable had he heard she'd retired to Palm Springs or fallen ill or even paralyzed, anything so that he and those around him could go on believing that his remarkably graceful aging was the result of exceptional genes and intense his hard daily work-outs.
|
|
In the parking lot, she opened the door to her black Mercedes, laid her bag on the passenger seat, and changed into more comfortable shoes for the ride home. While she felt a bit deflated, she harbored no ill will.
|
|
|
|
Mister X had used her solely for her surgical skills, while she had used him to earn an extraordinarily comfortable living.
|
|
Besides, Dr. Hudson had grown accustomed to such treatment by her former male clientele.
While she had once been like a naive mother sturgeon swimming blindly toward the nets hidden up the river, she was now closer to a willing call girl servicing the mighty without a budget. Really, she thought, she couldn't complain.
|
|
|
She glanced into her rear view mirror as Mister X passed by in his chauffeured silver Rolls Royce. She backed up, turned out onto the street, but then stopped at a red light.
|
|
|
The Rolls drove up next to her, and its rear window next to her rolled down.
|
|
From inside the car, Mister X was smiling at her like a lecher. Then he winked and pointed.
She felt instantly violated, no different than had he raised his middle finger.
|
|
|
It was not too late to change her course, to redirect her practice to the reconstructive side of plastic surgery and be rid of this haughty and unappreciative cosmetic clientele.
|
|
|
But then she recalled the mountains of paperwork,
|
|
and the emergency 3 A.M calls,
|
 |
|
|
and the rock-bottom insurance payments, and—
|
|
The light changed to green, and the thought disappeared. As their cars began to inch forward, she couldn't stop herself from glancing sideways one last time.
|
|
|
|
Mister X blew her a kiss and then rolled up the window, a gesture no less degrading than had he forced himself on her in the office.
|
|
Her foot slipped off the accelerator, and cars behind her began to honk. She sat there for a minute until a policeman motioned to her to move along.
|
|
|
|
Misters X, Y, and Z had gutted her for her own personal treasure—
|
|
—the one thing they didn't have and that only she could give them.
And now they were through with her forever.
|
|
|
|
Her roe sat on their faces.
|
|
The rest of her might as well lie shrink-wrapped in cold storage.
|
|
|
