Citizen Girl Read Online Free PDF

highlights wiping away the day’s mascara flecks. Our eyes meet in the reflection and Mascara smiles tentatively, stealing a furtive glance at my chest. Her vintage Pat Benatar shirt is adorned with a blue flashlight sticker. I glance over at the goatee stylist, who’s sporting identical sticker-wear. Stepping back to give the person behind me access to the sink, I look pointlessly for something to dry my hands on.
    ‘Guess it’s an air-dry night!’ Mascara remarks with an odd amount of cheer.
    ‘Yup,’ I agree as the throb of music filters down thestairs. We shake our hands vigorously while people squeeze past.
    ‘So …’ She smiles anxiously as Goatee joins in, hands flapping. ‘Who are you with?’
    ‘With?’
    ‘Who are you recruiting for?’ They peer at me with laser interest.
    ‘Oh, no, I’m—’
    ‘Uch, you’re not wearing a sticker.’ She wipes her hands curtly on her cargos. Goatee rolls his eyes before turning on his heel to leave. ‘You really should put one on, you know. There’s a system .’ I roll my skirt one more notch and squeeze up past the queue of chattering people lining the stairs, smacking into Jack as I round the corner.
    ‘You need a—’
    ‘Sticker, I know.’
    He does a Vanna White across his sweatshirt. ‘Yellow Crown: recruiting people. Blue Flashlight: unemployed people. White Smiley Face: onlookers.’ He presses a Blue Flashlight over my heart. ‘That’s all you need.’
    A Dockers-sporting Flashlight passes us, pausing his stride as he catches sight of Jack’s Crown and then looks confused as he takes in the Flashlight and Smiley Face flanking it. He jerks forward and backwards before ambivalently moving on, unsure if he’s just blown it with the world’s youngest CEO. Jack doubles over in hysterics.
    ‘Jack, that’s not nice,’ I admonish. ‘People here are fragile—’
    ‘WHAT’S UP, YOU UNEMPLOYED PEOPLE?! HOW WE DOIN’ TONIGHT?!’ A whooping cheergoes out from the crowd as we strain to see the woman in the flimsy red camisole steadying herself, one hand to the wall, a microphone in the other as she teeters atop a bar table.
    ‘WHAT’S UP, DEBBIE?!’ A man beside me cups his mouth and belts into my ear.
    She collapses in self-conscious giggles before tapping the wand, sending feedback splintering through the strobe-lit air. ‘Can you all hear me?’ Everyone claps. ‘Cool!’ She grins. ‘Okay, so thank you all so much for coming out and making tonight our biggest attended Blue Light event this year! And it’s only January! We have over ten thousand members in the metropolitan area and we’re growing by leaps and bounds. Every. Single. Day.’ She dips down into one hip, as if skiing, her uncontainable excitement contracting her muscles into a downhill shoosh. ‘And big props to Remy Red for sponsoring this week’s event! We would be nowhere without our refreshment sponsors. We’re very excited to be trying the Passion Fruit flavor next week and the Avocado Guava next month! And especially, thank you to the recruiters who came out tonight!’ Heads whip around in the crowd, searching for the coveted yellow stickers. ‘We’re thrilled for last week’s successful placement, Wendy Finn. If you want to swing by Dean and DeLuca on Sundays or Tuesdays, Wendy will be happy to give anyone with a Blue Flashlight sticker free refills on tea. Now, she did ask me to stress that this is for tea only, no coffee beverages. And be sure to check out our mention in this week’s cover article in Time Out New York , “Unemployed and Loving It”! Thank you, Time Out! And remember , you’re all Blue Light Specials! Now you only have forty more minutes in the Blue Zone, so hit the floor!’ At that, the music level rises to an unhelpful pitch as a switch is flipped and all gradations of depth and color disappear, leaving the room a wash of phosphorescence, punctuated by blaring white.
    ‘Great, a black light. I’m job hunting at a seventh-grade