She was not in the least jealous of the calendar girls and the Coca-Cola girls.3 She had never seen anyone like them and she didn’t think anyone else ever had.
The walls, where there was room, were well decorated with calendars and posters showing bright, improbable girls with pumped-up breasts and no hips—blondes, brunettes and redheads, but always with this bust development, so that a visitor of another species might judge from the preoccupation of artist and audience that the seat of procreation lay in the mammaries.
Alice Chicoy, Mrs. Juan Chicoy, that is, who worked among the shining girls, was wide-hipped and sag-chested and she walked well back on her heels. She was not in the least jealous of the calendar girls and the Coca-Cola girls.3 She had never seen anyone like them and she didn’t think anyone else ever had.
