“Check this out,” I said to Charlie. “Here is an ad in the paper. They are looking for an older man to act as an assistant for Miss Pan America beauty pageant contestants.”
“What? Let me see that.”
“Why? You don’t need a job.”
“Maybe not, but this one sounds interesting,” he said. “Besides, retirement is kind of boring sometimes. Why don’t you come with me while I check into it?”
“Good morning,” the clerk said when we walked into his office. “Are you gentlemen here about the job?”
“I am,” Charlie said. “I don’t know about him.”
“I’m just along for the ride,” I said.
“Exactly what is this job about?” Charlie asked.
“This job is about helping the Miss Pan America contestants,” the clerk said. “These girls don’t just show up and walk out on a runway. There is a lot of preparation involved.”
“Can you tell me a little about what I’m supposed to do?” Charlie asked.
“One of the biggest things has to do with the bikinis,” the clerk said. “Someone has to help them in and out of them and check them to make sure they fit right.”
“I’m good at that,” Charlie said.
“You also have to help them with the bikini wax or shave.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because they are wearing these tiny bikinis the girls like to either be shaved or have a bikini wax. It’s much easier if they have someone to help them.”
“I can help.”
“You have to help them out of their underwear, lay them down and either shave them or give them the wax treatment. Then you have to rub in oils and lotions. The pay is $65,000 a year and you have to go almost to Xcalak.”
“Xcalak?” Charlie said. “That’s 20 miles up the island. Is that where the job is?”
“No, sir,” the clerk said. “That’s where the end of the line is right now.”
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