Chapter 3 - Bimbo in a Clothing Store 2

Olivia’s mouth opens.

Then closes.

Then opens again, accompanied by a helpless little giggle that makes her wince internally, then she finally starts blurting out: "My boobs went all BOIIING!" - she makee an expansive gesture, accidentally smacking herself - giggling again: "An’ my brain is all foggy an’ squishy, an’ thinkin’ is like… really hard ‘n stuff!!"

Alina blinked.

“Oli,” she said, deadpan, “you’ve always had a huge rack. And you’ve never exactly been a philosophy major. What are you fussing about this time?”

"Like hell! Oli like super smarty!", Olivia insists, stamping her foot before almost losing her balance: "I'm all about books and tough words and stuff! Swear!"

Alina just looks at her, confused, trying to hold down a laugh. What was wrong with her dumb colleague today?

“It’s ‘cause of this thingy!” Olivia shouts, suddenly remembering, and thrusts the dictaphone forward. “It made my brain go all poooof!”

Alina takes it from her hand, turning the little device over, inspecting it from several sides. “It’s a recorder, Oli... A really old one. Probably part of some art display. You sure you didn’t bonk your head this morning?”

“What? No! Like, I took the subway like normal,” Olivia says, trying to remember her morning. “And there was this reeeally cute guy and— ooooh, he had this smile—”, she trails off, staring into space for a while, lips parted.

"Aha! I get it! You were thinking about that guy all morning, Oli. You are just horny, girl, as always. You just need to go and rub one out *giggle*!" - *click*, Alina's thumb had pressed down on the record button while doing an overdramatic gesture toward Oli.