Created by Diane Brown, Buena Beach is an online soap opera, giving up all the juicy details of some of the hottest guys and gals of Buena Beach, a small town in Southern California. Check back everyday for a new episode here on HelloBeautiful.com.
Sandy
Boob job. That’s what I need. I quick boob job and a bit of lipo. I can totally do it outpatient. Take a couple of sick days and – wahlah – new and improved Sandy. Financing will be a snap; just need to apply for a platinum credit card. Maybe even two, so I can buy a wardrobe to support my new body. And I’ll start wearing makeup. Lots of it. Perfume too. When I’m done, Mario won’t even think twice about hooking up with that new —
“Sandy?”
Oh my gosh. It’s her. Wearing a tight knit shirt and a short floral skirt. “Oh. Hello.”
“Hi. Sorry to bother you. I just have a quick question. How do I access the network drive?”
After my surgery, I’ll get a closet full of sweaters like hers. And short skirts, too. I’ll even go without underwear on hot days.
I’ll wear the reddest lipstick I can find and start waxing that fuzz above my lip instead of bleaching. Maybe I can even start getting weekly mani-pedis. This Veronica chick won’t be the only one attracting attention around here.
“Sandy?”
“Yes? Oh…right. Uh, the network drive.”
“I know you’re Mario’s assistant and everything, but…I don’t know. You seem a little more approachable than…than others.”
Well, she’s right about that. I am pretty nice and easygoing, for the most part. “Thanks. Here, why don’t we go over to your computer and I’ll show you.”
She follows me to her cubicle, which she’s wasted no time in decorating. Looks nice. Even smells nice, like fresh-baked cookies. As I reach for her mouse, I notice a lunch meeting with Mario for this afternoon noted on her calendar. “So, you’re going out with Mario today?”
“Oh…yes. He said we could go over some things at lunch because he was in and out of meetings all day.”
Lunch. Lunch? Lunch! He is supposed to be taking me out to lunch today. What the heck is going on here? Does he like her? I bet he likes her. He’s going to start liking her, start going out with her, and he’s going to dump me.
You see, this is what I get for dating married men. Married men have absolutely no morals whatsoever. It’s bad enough that he’s cheating on my girl Cynthia. But between the two of us, what else could he possibly need?
I’m gonna lose it. I gotta do something before I lose it and start crying at my desk again. The last time that happened, Diane caught me, and I had to make up some story about my cat being killed, which is the most ridiculous thing ever because I am allergic to cats; can’t even be within a few feet of them.
“Here you go. You’re all set.”
“Oh, thanks so much,” she tells me as I notice even more intricate girly details about her, like the gold monogram necklace she’s wearing and the shimmering powder dotted along her neckline.
“Sure, anytime.”
It seems like she wants me to hang out a little longer, but I’m feeling the need to find the nearest mirror and freshen up a tad. Maybe I have some Carmex in my desk drawer leftover from a few weeks ago when I had that cold sore.
But, here comes Mario. Okay, well I may not be looking my best, but I’ve got other tools in my box.
“Good morning, Sandy.” He’s in his early morning zone, thinking about his agenda for the day.
So before he gets a chance to load me up with instructions for color copies or a slate of e-mails to send or mountains of filing, I whip it out. Janet Jackson-style. My left boob lingers in the tepid office air for just a moment, but it makes an impact, erupting the slightest smirk and hesitation from Mario as we cross paths. Sure, my poor little 34 B isn’t in the best shape, but it’s still a boob. And Mario’s still a man.
The Voice
“I did a boob-by,” Sandy tells her best gal pal, Ericka, who’s arrived from City Hall to drop off some paperwork and share a bite to eat. An analyst with HR, Ericka’s the one who got Sandy the job at the Recreation Division.
“A boob-by?” Ericka asks.
“Yes. To Mario this morning in the corridor.”
“Did anyone get hurt?” Ericka asks dryly before taking a bite of her salad.
Sandy frowns, looking down at her chest. “Yah, me. I figured he’d cancel his lunch meeting with that girl and ask to come to my place instead. I think I need a boob job.”
Sandy pretends to be unaffected by Ericka’s eye rolls. “Man, I don’t know why everyone’s tripping off of old girl. She’s not all that. Looks-wise. Experience-wise. Definitely not style-wise.”
Sandy isn’t convinced.
“Look, Sandy. Don’t even trip. I’m sure Mario is just following instructions. Danny probably told him to spend the week training Veronica. It’s…it’s protocol.”
“Oh, yah? Is it protocol for Danny to tell him to take her out to lunch?”
“Yah, girl,” Ericka says, crossing her fingers. “They do it all the time in City Hall when a new person comes on board.”
Sandy’s slowly turning. “Really?”
“Yes, so please don’t trip anymore on Mario. Besides, I don’t know why you even care. Like you said yourself, it’s just sex, right? I mean, even if he did start seeing homegirl, that would be another reason for you to stop being lazy and find an attractive, successful, unmarried man.”
Sandy silently begs to differ, thinking that two out of three of those attributes was just fine for her. Besides, the way she saw it, you either cheat or you get cheated on, and she’d been in the latter of the two groups for far too many years.
Ericka, apparently bored with Mario talk, changes the subject, going on about a new electronic data system when Sandy feels her purse vibrate. With the stealth of a professional texter, she locates the message in her in-box, discretely writes back to the Sender “Yes, of course you can come over for dinner,” and slips her phone back into her purse, all before her lunch companion has a chance to slurp up the remains of her Diet Coke.
Well, good, Sandy thinks to herself. Everyone survived the boob-by just fine. Living dangerously definitely pays off.
Check back tomorrow for the next episode of Buena Beach!
