Ashley spent a lot of time explaining what a raw deal she got. Lucy did the same when I first met her. Ashley explained how being a Cuban woman meant that she was screwed. Even though she graduated top of her class at Northwestern and she’s very smart. She told me about how smart she is. She had to work twice as hard for less than half as much. Did you know that the only women that get ahead in business are white sluts? She told me about it.
That all changed when she went to a Female Empowerment and You seminar at the Dial. The Dial was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. She told me about it. She explained her frustration to the speaker over wine at Alinea. The speaker told her that women can’t play by the rules if they want to win because the deck is stacked against them. If you want to make it, you have to be willing to think outside the box. Ashley thought that the rituals and the blood and the tramp stamps were pretty weird. But they were outside the box. And it worked.
Men started listening to her. Everyone started listening to her. Her skin became silky smooth like it never was before. And her ass? Forget about it. Two months after her first blood ritual, she was promoted to VP of Merchandising! Six months after that and she landed a gig in Marketing. And that was just the beginning she was told, a few more tattoos and a special weekend retreat and the sky would be the limit. Not even the sky actually.
It was beat for beat the same as Lucy’s experience. I wanted her to shut up since I had already heard it before, but saying so would have been rude so I listened to it all again. Then I told her the deal. Magic is real, turtledove, and you’re mixed up in some bad shit. I told her unless she was down with human sacrifice and becoming a baby factory, it was time to hit the panic button.
She resisted but Lucy gave her the hard sell. She’s a lot more convincing than I am. Ashley freaked out again once we told her that the cult would come after her so it wasn’t just about stopping, it was about disappearing. Once she wore herself out with anger and bargaining, it was time for acceptance.
I used my spell to erase the tattoos and my part was done. Time to hit ONE of the Michelin rated restaurants in the Ritz-Carlton Rancho Mirage for Roasted Corn Bisque, Wild Mushroom Ragout, and Truffle Pappardelle pasta with horseradish cream. It was pretty good but I’d put the catfish at Catfish Basket above it.
Men that want to dine there are required to wear a jacket and tie. They let me in so clearly women can wear whatever the fuck they want. So it’s not entirely bad out there genderwise. Just commonly.
Rocket Cat 