Yesterday had marked the end of her second week and her motel room rent was now due or out she would go. She had a handful of bills in her purse and she needed these for food and other essentials. She was feeling depressed and lost.
Two weeks, after leaving the fresh greenery and open mountain air of the small town, and she had seen endless amounts of model agencies all over the crowded, dirty and cold city. But it was the same story wherever she went.
"We want girls who have appeared in other magazines."
She protested. "But if nobody gives me a chance, how do I get to appear in any magazine?"
"Not our problem. Our customers want familiar faces. The newcomer is a big risk in the modelling business."
Some more sympathetic agents told her to go here, to go there, to try this or try that. But is was always the same answer. The skinny models who had flat chests and emaciated faces were the ones who were hired. She had thought of going to some of those girlie magazines, but decided against it. She had to make it as a legitimate model. Wasn't there anybody who wanted a healthy country girl's look with genuine blonde hair and green eyes! It was frustrating. Originally, before coming here, she had assumed that with her firm breasts, smooth figure, creamy white skin and sensuous lips, she'd be a terrific hit as a model. Now she learned that she was a "dime a dozen" as some cruelly told her.
Amanda finally got up from the bed, telling herself, "This is no good! This feeling sorry for yourself. This just won't work. Get yourself together and see what the big world has for you.
She went to the bathroom, scrubbed herself until her skin gleamed with the country girl freshness that she knew so well; then she brushed her hair and finally began to look decent. "I've got to get a job, any job."
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