I wore my favorite dress that day, the one with the shoulder pads, and none of the guys even noticed.
Sterling Cooper Draper Meredith was a fine place to work, but, as you can see, the drinking lunches ruined my figure.
“I’ll wear the turtleneck,” I said, “but I am not getting the haircut.” “But we’re all doing it, it’s a uniform look,” John protested, “Please, just compromise.” “I got the bangs. I got them!” I declared, and then I turned on my heel and walked away.
“The pencil skirt stays,” I insisted, “I mean, I’m just trying to bring a little class to this operation. I haven’t even evaluated how I feel about wearing leather yet, and all this hairspray is making me nauseated. Like, constantly nauseated. I know it’s doing the same thing to Tommy, I just heard him throwing up this morning!” The rest of the band just looked at me.
“Can you believe we all wore the same thing? Hahaha, I know, Earl, that joke never gets old.”
Looking out at the cyclotron, I was worried. My fellow scientists were eagerly examining the new equipment, but I couldn’t shake a terrible feeling. Sensing my unease, they looked to me and I spoke: “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds. And sitting like this is really uncomfortable, you guys, can someone help me up?”
(original.)
“Maybe you should just talk to these girls,” I said, “You know, you’re good guys, maybe they’ll like you for you. And if not, why would you want to be with someone who doesn’t even enjoy any of what’s great about you?” I was met with blank stares.
“Ugh, fine,” I relented, “Give me the money, I’ll buy the liquor. I have the boobs.”
