I’ve been working on a sketch comedy television show for the past month and today, as we shot man-on-the-street interviews in Times Square, an artist began to sketch our crew. He started with the director, a former TV sitcom actress who he recognized immediately, and we all thought the result reflected a nice resemblance. He moved on to sketch a few more people and again, no features were extremely caricaturized. Then he got to me. If you saw me on the street, you’d see a girl wearing her hair pulled back in a messy bun, a leather jacket zipped all the way up with clipboard in hand while trying to persuade wide-eyed tourists and busy New Yorkers to participate in the show despite the gloomy midtown drizzle. Apparently, this artist saw something much more glamourous.
The result I suppose does reflect my general cheery disposition, but there’s certainly one noticeable enhancement. Hello, cleavage! I was not showing one sliver of skin yet he made “an artistic decision” to add a set of amazing, busty breasts. Wow.
This is however, totally my pose.
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