Allie is a recovering model.

She used to make two thousand dollars an hour. Now she shops in thrift shops with me, and sometimes she has so little money that she steals a three-dollar shirt. This is part of her recovery. "Living like the ugly people," is what I call it.

But she can't live like an ugly person; even in the thrift shop, a man stands next to Allie, who is standing in front of a mirror in an atrocious fake mink and fake leather coat. The man is as atrocious as the coat, and ten sizes bigger.

"You don't need that coat, honey, you look great even without it." Allie and I look at each other.

"Yeah," I say, "She really is beautiful."

"A real looker," he says.

"Yeah. I could look at her all day. Look at that chin. Perfect. And those exotic eyes." Allie turns toward the mirror to hide her laughter.

"Mmmm mm. Don't see 'em like her too often. I'd sure like to take her home with me."

"Yeah. Me too," I say. Allie grins. She turns the collar up to hide. "I'd like to take her home and rip those clothes off and stick my wet fingers deep inside her."

The man looks at me.

"Wow. I'd really like that," Allie says, smiling. "I'd like you to fuck me right here under the clothes rack."