Friday's Girls

Aphrodite came to visit and we hit the shops. She only likes expensive malls, our 'Dite, and she only likes the kinds of stores where a little slip of fabric costs as much as your monthly rent. So I went along mainly to hold her handbag and credit cards while she indulged. She bought several of those fluffy little skirts that leave absolutely nothing for imagination, even in a goddess, and several tops which seemed not up to the task of restraining her breasts. And she bought about thirty pairs of sunglasses to stay anonymous. And some shoes with heels long enough to use for oil drilling in an emergency. I trudged somewhere behind, carrying mounds of clothes and Her Lady's handbag.

Then we took a rest at a cappuchino bar and it would have been nice except for the fact that 'Dite tried to ravish the handsome young man serving us right there in front of all the ladies-who-lunch. (Why did he have to say: "Anything else you ladies desire?") He had cappucchino and cream all over his face, poor thing, and it took me a lot of divine diplomacy to get us out of there. Then Aphrodite was sulking because I had to call her a deranged old coot to turn the atmosphere of impending riot into something more compassionate.

So I got this wonderful idea of making her interested in outfitting me, to take her mind off all those vague ideas of turning me into a rotten apple. She's very kind-hearted deep down (if you get through all those other layers), and she grabbed the idea and ran with it.

The result: I now own a little-nothing top which makes me look like Dolly Parton and cost me 240 dollars. Also a shirt that ends at my hipbone made out of pink flamingo feathers. If you breathe they move apart... I'll have to give them to charity and not eat anything but bread and water for the next month. Being a Goddess of Light is hard work!