The clients are friends of friends—acquaintances really—I barely hung with a few times, but seemed nice in that suburban-soccer-mom-kind-of-way. They give me $150 each—the friend rate—while they get to hang out all day drinking, getting their hair and makeup done (sold separately), gossiping, and dancing around in their underwear—and sometimes even naked—while I take their photos. It’s supposed to be a fun girl party, artistic and liberating.
The job is an all-day on-your-feet marathon that normally starts early and lasts twelve to fourteen hours into the night.
What happens next is what happens when women get together drink alcohol and run around in their underwear: ghosts of the past appear.
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