One might expect an editor to have a prestigious office and not starving artist landscapes on magnolia walls made squalid by spider webs and candle stains, beige vinyl chairs circa 1950 and gray desk. A lone secretary greeted me, wearing Fashions by Snooki and makeup by some reality-show makeup artist, all tarted up for television.
"May I help you?" Her voice crackled with the sex appeal of Selma Diamond. She noticed the blood draining from my cheeks as thoughts of success ran screaming from m...
Published on August 01, 2010 07:04