Sophie Reiff, Trophy Wife

Is this the weekend, by the way? (I always think it’s Saturday!) Load the kids up in the car – country club (I hit the spa: hand the kids to gay Adolphe – calisthenics, crazy golf). I spoil myself – it helps the stress – the kids are having fun (I guess). Fox News Tom Cruise No Jews designer shoes. Rufe’s so square, a diplodocus: the kids will always be my focus. Everybody needs a break (we’re human too, for goodness’ sake). We just do the normal things: cabin in Borrego Springs, week in Vegas, see the shows, birthday dinner (Kiriko’s): never noodles, only sushi (table used by John Belushi) – private beach in old La Jolla (Rufe knows someone, bigshot lawyer): cocktail bar, upholstered loungers (razor wire keeps out the scroungers). Juan’s the poolboy. My help’s Auxi (Juanito’s neat, and Auxi’s mousey). Wears my cast-offs, lives on chilli – keeps her pay from getting silly. Neither’s legal – which is good: they stay grateful, like they should. Minimum wage would tie a noose to it: anyhow, they’re plenty used to it. She breastfeeds, Juanito hustles (fine-boned body, high-toned muscles). He’s moonlighting, pumping gas in San Diego, humping ass. Rufe’s no idea what good taste is. Parties with them friends of his. I can’t stand them business folks – Steaks and beers and dirty jokes. I won’t go to meets or meals if I can’t wear my strapless heels and backless dress (Yves St Lauren) it’s not about impressing men (who cares what they think?) – it’s the wives it matters what a woman drives who fixed her hair. What’s Satan’s curse? To show up toting last month’s purse.