2011 06 27: Barbie Doll

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Mission Name: Barbie Doll
Date of Mission: June 27, 2011
Locale: Off-grid boutique

Mimi is window-shopping when Mickey approaches her.


Mickey Mimi

It's a beautiful, sunny day out and Mimi can be found exiting a boutique down a lesser known shopping area. Of course, it's mostly lesser known for those who aren't willing to drop a few grand on a single dress. Expensive shops and boutiques line the street, but there's also a small ice cream parlor and a sandwich shop, too. Mimi, wearing a pink sundress with wedge sandals, decides to window shop her way to the ice cream parlor, which may or may not prove a futile effort. "Oh my God… look at that dress!" She exclaims loudly, stopping just one store away from the one she exited.

It's the training. They tell you that the training isn't obvious, but when you know what to look for, it is. One second, no linebacker, the next, a linebacker, a pillar of man, handsome and wealthy is standing next to Mimi, perhaps a single step back. He stares up at the dress then leans forward to look at her and comments, as if he has just stumbled into this explanation, "It does match your eyes. Though you'd need shoes to go with it, I suppose you have a pair in mind?" he questions softly as he falls in beside her like some old comrade, staring up at the dress. His accent thick, Boston and smooth. Not a care in the world.

If Mimi is bothered by a strange young man appearing at her side, she does an admirable job of hiding it. The blonde looks at him curiously before shrugging her shoulders. "No. Besides, this is something designed for more of a fall. I'm a spring." She smiles at Mickey slowly before shrugging again. "No, I don't think so. Not really my style. But perfect for someone else. Not for you though. Your shoulders are too broad." Mimi heads down the street at a leisurely pace, figuring that if Mickey wants to continue the conversation, he'll follow along like a puppy dog.

Mickey doesn't play lap dog. It isn't in his DNA, she won't have him following at her heel. Instead, he looks at the window for a long moment, thinking through his education thus far. His experiences with girls in Boston. Though those girls were never like Mimi, those girls never had money, and couldn't find class if they sat on it. "But it'd really show off my legs. Me, I think you'd look good in it," he tells her, "Hey, at least tell me your name?" he calls after her.

Mimi seems surprised that a boy isn't following her for once — when she does notice that he's not behind her. She turns on her heel toward the tall young man and watches him before shrugging her shoulders in that same carefree fashion again. "I'll bet that you're terribly hairy underneath those pants, and it would all have to come off. Hairy legs just do not make for a convincing cross dresser, in my humble experiences. I know the name of a good waxer, however. Minh does exceptional work." She takes a few steps back to Mickey. "My name is Mimi. Yours?"

"Not really, actually," Mickey replies and spends a moment rubbing his lower abdomen for a second, which only serves to draw attention to the fact that he is built like some sort of statue. Offering her his hand, he introduces himself, "I'm Adam, a pleasure to meet you Mimi. You have very lovely eyes, I'm sorry to fixate on them, but that dress really would look spectacular on you, fall or not, maybe it's time for a change of season," he goes on, looking back up towards the window. Walking a few steps closer, he asks, "Are you from around here?"

"Close." Mimi simply responds when he asks her if she's from around the area. The girl may be blonde, but she's not entirely dim-witted enough to give a stranger any hint as to where she lives this day and age, especially when one is the daughter of a Senator. She takes his hand and gives him something of a firmer handshake than might be expected from the woman. "A pleasure to meet you, Adam. And thank you for your kind words. Still, I'm not entirely sure about the color… oh well." She kicks at the ground with her wedged shoe, looking at him. "And what about you? Do you live around here?" Mimi counters easily.

"And you, Mimi," Mickey answers and watches the way she kicks the ground. The firmest handshake from a hundred and fifteen pound woman is still the handshake of a woman less than half his size, but he does notice. "Actually I just moved to town, thought a change of scenery might be nice. That's why I asked, I was curious if you knew where I could order a good pizza. I'm completely lost around here, and I hardly know anyone," he explains amiably and looks up at the dress again. "You should try it on," he tells her and gently brushes past her as he moves towards the door into the boutique where he opens the door and holds it for her.

The young blonde looks puzzled by Adam's behavior when the man enters into the boutique. Mimi glances from side to side as if to ask, 'Are you seeing this?' to the other passerbys. Finally she shakes her head and enters into the boutique after the young man holds the door for her. "Thank you," she responds to him, moving over to the dress. "There are plenty of places to order a good pizza. There's a wonderful place on 112th called Domino's…" Mimi says to him, a wild grin lighting up her face. "If you're new to town, I'm not sure you can handle the real stuff, you know. But if you really want a good slice, on east 116th, there's another place called Marconi's. Best deep dish you'll ever eat in your life, stuffed with cheese. All sorts of toppings to choose from…" Mimi trails off there as she considers the dress for a moment longer, ultimately moving away from it. It is awfully tempting though.

"You questioning my ability to handle a good pie? Please," Mickey intones in good spirits. Following her inside, he makes a gesture towards one of the two at the counter, seeing as its not exactly an enormous boutique and indicates the dress, "I think I might be taking this one," he tells them and then gestures towards Mimi, as if to say, 'help this woman with whom I seem to be shopping,' attaching himself to her, and her to him in some vague sort of valence. "Marconi's," he repeats aloud, all the same as he begins to follow her around the room. "Though, you have to realize Boston has some pretty good pizza."

"Oh, a Bostonian. Sorry, I didn't realize." Mimi simply says. "Yeah, there must be some good pizza down there. I don't get around to that area often." She looks at Adam when he motions to the store clerk and the dress, her eyes widening significantly. "Err… I guess I have no choice then, but if I do like it, you have to let me buy it. I don't accept gifts from men who I've barely met before and my daddy's platinum card just wouldn't be the same without one catastrophic purchase a day." Mimi smiles at him as one of the clerks steps over to get the dress off of the mannequin and put it on a hanger, handing it to her.

"It isn't that tragic," Mickey remarks with a laugh and glances at the dress and then at Mimi. "Sure, I'll buy myself a new tie then," he tells her and pretends to be modeling some imaginary tie in his hand, stroking the back of his hand up and down some unseen silk which might hang around his neck. "What do you think, something light blue, or some sort of power tie?" he asks and turns his shoulders a few more times. Looking back at her, he then nods his head towards the changing rooms. "Let's see this."

Rather effortlessly, Mimi replies: "No, light blue. It'll go with your eyes and contrast your hair better." She eyes him for a moment before taking the dress over to the dressing room. "Just wait here patiently, hmm?" She asks him, laughing quietly before stepping into the dressing room. Her phone starts to ring when she's in there, and underneath the changing booth, it's plain to see the dress she came in wearing hit the ground. "Heeeey, Foster. I'm out and about right now." There's a pause in conversation. "Later tonight? Sure, we can do that. Okay. I'll see you then. I'm excited too. Okay. Okaaaay. Okay. Bye." The click of the phone hanging up is heard before the curtain starts shuffling a bit. "Ta-da!" Mimi cries out as she exits the dressing room, now wearing a burnt umber colored chic Bohemian styled dress. It's hem looks like it's been made from different bandanas. "I'm still not sure about the color."

Staring up at her from his seat, Mickey seems to be thinking about the dress and decides, "You were right. I mean, you look hot, but maybe it's not the color for you," and shrugs a little. Standing up, he gets up and walks off to start looking at some of the other dresses. The worker follows and he indicates something more suited to Mimi's colors and together they bring it back over. "Try this," he tells her and comes over to look at her a bit more closely as the dress is brought in.

Mimi stares at Mickey for a long minute, then waves the clerk and the dress off rather effectively with a single flick of her wrist. The staff here may or may not be familiar with Miss Collinwood-Taylor. "Alright, so what's your story, Boston Bean? You're way too good at this mixing and matching. Are you the closeted son of some wealthy lawyer who needs a good beard? Sorry, but I don't do that. I have a boyfriend." Thankfully she doesn't add, 'one who could kick your ass'. "Or are you just a paparazzi trying to get a nipple slip? If that's the case, we could stay here all day and try on dresses, but you'd be severely disappointed. I always check my shit before I exit the dressing room. Puh-lease. I am not Lindsay Lohan."

"None of the above," Mickey replies and reaching into his pocket pulls out a pack of gum and slides a piece into his mouth which he begins to chew and soon after blows a small pink bubble. "Do you go around suspecting people want something from you all the time?" he asks and seems not the least bit phased. "I used to be that way," he decides, playing his part the best way that he can, he reaches into his pocket and searches around for his cell phone which he spends a moment examining. "When was the last time you went to a Yankee's game?" he asks, as if they didn't just have some sort of weird conversation.

Mimi furrows her brows at him. "Yes, generally I do. It's easy when people do have a tendency to… want things from you all the time. I can't explain." Or she won't, rather. Mimi shakes her head a litle bit at him, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry. You're right. That was… that was rude of me." Mimi doesn't ask why he used to be that way, though she does seem mildly intrigued. "I've never been to a Yankees game. I'm not a huge sports fan… unless it's the fancy horse races. Then I get to buy a new outfit AND drink a mint julip, so long as we're not being carded."

"It's okay, I don't mind that you're defensive, it's cool," Mickey replies and smiles broadly at her. "The races, really? You don't look like a rider," he tells her and looks her up and down, and she may realize that this is the first time he has done so obviously. He is almost like a eunuch in his ability to stay focused on her face, no matter how she might present herself— if she does.

Somehow the blonde resists the urge to make a raunchy comment at Mickey's assertion that she doesn't look like a rider. "I'm not. I just like to watch." That in and of itself seems a little risque. She moves back into the dressing room to take off store property, putting it back on it's rightful hanger. When she comes out, a clerk is there ready to take it and put it back on the mannequin. "Well, Adam. This has been lovely but I'm afraid that I made plans with someone for tonight that I should probably get ready for… so… bon voyage." Mimi takes a moment to stop and text message something on her phone before she starts heading for the door.

"I wish I had vague appointments that I felt a vague compulsion to prepare for," Mickey remarks and walks along with her, sliding his hands into his pockets as he does. He isn't following her persay, but its not like he has a lot of need to stand around in a woman's boutique. "Look, if you're ever in need of an actual man to hang out with not some figment of your imagination here's my card," he tells her and hands her his card. It simply says;
Adam Thompson
(212) 555-0101

"See ya."

About the time Mimi's signature cream-colored town car is pulling around to the front of the shop, Mimi smiles at Adam. "I have a date with my boyfriend, actually, who isn't a figment of my imagination, but thank you for that. If I ever feel the need to be someone's Barbie doll again, I'll sure do that." Mimi takes his card and slips it between two of her fingers before exiting the shop and getting into her town car.

Before she gets into her towncar, Mickey throws a curve ball. "Before you go, I had a question for you. This guy, safe sort? Mousy?" he asks and leans his head to the side a little. "Barbie Doll, really, though, that's cute. A guy tries to take interest in something you're interested in and you think it's about controlling you," he muses and throws a little wave. "Nice ride. See you around."


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