Jessica's Change Management Ch. 23

More vexed than ever, I stood up and stormed outta the office. Had I literally been fuming like a red dragon before, I was totally spitting fire now. I had never felt such a lack of respect ever. What an asshole to disregard and disrespect me like that!

Worst thingie of all? The boring dude was kinda right. During my foray into 'Bimbo Nation', I had started flirting with the idea of becoming an influencer or the like as my next career step. After all, I had gotten pretty good with selfies and all that stuff. Even though Marcus had made it sound totally trashy and stupid, I still liked the idea. Or maybe, his reaction was precisely why I liked it that much more now. Anyhow, first thingies first. Right now, I was mega furious, so much so that I needed some thingie to make me feel better.

As a result of my anger, I drove straight to the shopping mall. First order? Heading over to the beauty parlor to get a fresh waxing and tanning. After all, Marcus had said I needed to learn more stuff about fake tanning, hadn't he? Oh wow! That Brazilian total body waxing felt super invigorating and the fresh faux glow had never been so bronze. Yay!

However, I needed more. After all, leaving the office had been like closing a chapter. Now, it was time to open the next one. I mean, you know the drill with us chicks, right? A new stage of life means a new styling. That was why I let the beautician do some special spray tanning, as in tan lines. You read that right! Even though she looked kinda surprised and dissuasive, I was adamant. I mean, tan lines might not be ultra trendy at the moment, but there was some sultry thingie about them, what with them highlighting the bestest parts and all.

I chose a classic bikini style and not some micro stuff, so the beautician left out some nice triangle cups and halter straps on each of my funbags. For the bottom, I opted for a Brazilian style with an ultra low waist and thin waistband. Oh wow! It totally looked like the stereotypical 90s pornstar style. It looked like the ultimate dumb bimbo style. So vintage! So retro! So like fine wine!

The new special spray tan also meant the old tan tattoo was gone, what with that bow tan too on my lower back getting sprayed over. Actually, I couldn't really believe that I still hadn't gotten a proper tramp stamp. After all, it was like a fundamental requirement for a bimbo, wasn't it? Such a prerequisite! Such an essential!

In a way, it made me feel kinda incomplete and imperfect as a bimbo. That was why I found myself walking into the local tattoo parlor next. It wasn't hard to explain what I was looking for and the tattoo artist didn't seem surprised in the least. Instead, it appeared like the typical request he would expect from a customer looking like me. Tihi!

In the end, I got the perfect bimbo prereq. As it was the most basic bimbofication, I wanted the most basic tramp stamp. As design, I chose the first tan tattoo D-Rod had given me, as in a black tribal heart with the pointy bottom ending right at my tailbone and the shaped spirals spreading out all the way to my hips. Generic tribal style? Check! Stereotypical heart design? Check and check!

By now, I was totally psyched by my beautifications. That was why I wanted more titivations to feel like a complete bimbo. Just then I remembered the butt scrawling from the sexpo. Remember? The 'Ace was in the hole' writing around my ringpiece? I had an awesome idea how to use it, not literally but figuratively. As a result, I got a black ace of spades card tattoo above my left outer ankle and a black queen of spades card tattoo above my right outer ankle. Generic stripper style? Check! Stereotypical metaphor? Check and check!

As I was totally hooked, I remembered another butt scrawling, as in the 'Plug and play' scribbling on my butt cheeks. Using it as template, I got a black Playboy bunny logo tattooed above my left inner ankle and a black heart-shaped locket with keyhole above my right inner ankle. Generic 90s pornstar look? Check! Stereotypical metaphor? Check and check!

It made me feel so pretty, but it wasn't enough to quench my thirst. While I was on it, I felt the need to get all the basic bimbo prerequisites. Totally logical! Totally rational! Right? That was why I went for a new hairstyle. I mean, I had gradually changed it over the last coupla weeks, but it wasn't a full-blown bimbo 'do yet. I didn't go the easy route and had it dyed platinum blond, though. I wanted it more blunt and edgy! I wanted to make a statement, leaving no doubt that my hair was dyed and fake. Carte blanche! Remember?

As a result, I chose to go totally straight, as in no more curls. Instead, the luscious length of my tresses was complemented by long choppy layers cut around the edges. Most of all, though, I opted for a two-tone look with an ultra white blonde dye and black undertones. Why? Cause the contrast of bottle blonde against black undertones made it look that much more fake and increased my 90s pornstar look even more. Super vintage! Super retro! Super fine wine!

--- Tuesday ---

Even though I had enjoyed the extensive wellness session, I couldn't stop thinking about my failure at the office. I hadn't managed to gain Ortega's attention or Marcus' appreciation. Apparently, I hadn't looked bimboy enough to catch their eyes. It made me feel like I wasn't ready to be a full-time bimbo. It made me feel like some of the dudes' suggestions from the sexpo mighta been right.

That was why I visited a doctor, or more like a plastic surgeon. I had been dissatisfied with the lip enhancer for way too long 'cause it was only a makeshift solution, as in half-assed. I was ready for the next step. As a result, I chose lip augmentation as my first cosmetic procedure. Following the doctor's suggestions, I opted for Hyaloraunic acid fillers to shape and support the tissues of my lips. The surgeon looked kinda baffled when I selected the max volume, as in full trout pout style. He advised against it, but I remained adamant 'cause no more half-assed stuff.

In the end, I was totally surprised about how quickly the lip augmentation was performed in the doctor's office with little to no downtime. Had I known how easy the procedure worked, I woulda done it a long time ago. Anyhow, I had never felt so excited and elated before. I had never been so happy and cheerful before. I literally acted like a kid on Christmas, getting the bestest gift ever.

Just like that, I had a permanent trout pout. So easy! So official! I was ultra proud, 'cause I had dared to take the next step. I was ultra proud, 'cause I was progressing in my bimbofication. With my first cosmetic procedures done, I felt like I could finally call myself an official bimbo. Yay!

For the moment, it soothed the pain of losing the out-please-ment center and failing to gain the consultants' attention. For the moment, I needed some time to heal, so I spent the rest of the day controlling the swelling with ice and relaxing on my couch.

--- Wednesday ---

Waking up the next morning, I basically rushed to the mirror to check on my new asset. My lips looked more plump and puffy than ever. Actually, there was no other way to phrase it but to call them rubber dinghies 'cause they looked so full and swollen and inflated. In other words, they looked purr-fect!

What caused the most fakeness? The change to my cupid bow, as in the inverted v-shape at the center of the upper lip, 'cause it looked lotsa more pointy now, so much so that my mouth basically had a triangle shape and stood open permanently. Besides, the doctor had told me that a natural-appearing mouth had a certain balance with a larger lower lip compared to the upper lip. Even though both my newly augmented lips were massive, the upper lips looked slightly bigger. In other words, they were über-purr-fect!

My giddiness only lasted for so long, however. As I didn't really have much to do for the day, my mind kept wandering. In fact, my thoughts kept revolving around Marcus and his total disrespect. It still ruffled my feathers how much he had disparaged me as a woman and a bimbo. It still bothered me that he had totally discredited my efforts after I had spent lotsa time getting dressed for success. As it didn't give me any peace, I had to do some thingie about it.

What to do? What to do? Actually, I was kinda outta ideas. That was why I got into my car and did some menial work, as in grocery shopping. Maybe, the diversion and different environment would give me some new impulses. It didn't really work that way, what with me finding no solutions 'cause candy brain.

In the end, I drove off the grocery store's parking lot without really knowing my destination. Eventually, I found myself at a food concourse. Before I realized where I was, I drove past a familiar taco joint. Oh my god! I was in the LGZ barrio. I musta driven here on impulse while I had been lost in thought. Maybe, this was a sign! Maybe, it was fate! Mostly, I had to grab the bull by the horns! Mostly, I had to make hay when the sun shined!

That was why I stepped on the brakes and made a U-turn, driving right onto the parking lot of the taco joint. Remember the place? It was where Checo was working. It was where I had gotten initiated as a barrio hoodrat. Truth be told, I had totally lost sight of my role as LGZ hoe. In a way, it was a career. In a way, it gave me purpose. In a way, it was exactly what I was looking for. Especially as I was certain that the gang thugs wouldn't punish me with disregard. As if! They would totally appreciate my bimbo style and put my assets to full use, making them way better men than Marcus and the other consultants. Duh!

Oh, I haven't told you about my outfit for the day yet. So forgetful nowadays! So distracted nowadays! Anyhow, the 'Bimbo Nation' website sold and shipped clothes and accessories. Of course, I hadn't been able to resist that opportunity. This morning, the items had arrived, and I had instantly taken them for a test drive.

As a result, I was wearing a bright pink crop top made of some lycra spandex material. Basically, it only just covered my boobies. What you guys call it? Boob tube, right? As I had ordered it two sizes too small, it was ultra stretchy with my nippies poking through the pink fabric. Best of all, though, it had the word 'Fake' printed on the front in big white letters. As they say, fake it till you make it and that was what I was determined to do today. Yay!

I had combined the fake boob tube with a pair of skinny women's jeans hot pants that sported a super trendy distressed look with a slashed front and fringed hem. The jeans were extremely short, so much so that the white inside pockets were visibly peeking out below the hem. Actually, they were so short that they rid all the way up my ass exposing most of my buns. A serious case of hungry butt, as in 'ass-eats-pants', I guess. Oh, and the hot pants were also pink, of course. To round off my style, I wore a pair of white, quilted knee-high boots that matched the color of the inside pockets and the 'fake' logo. They had a 6" high stiletto heel, 2" platform, and 2 golden buckles, one at the top and one at ankle height.

The buckles perfectly matched the color of my accessories. As you know, accessories are a bimbo's best friends. So I had ordered a glittery gold bundle from the website to make me shine like a superstar. It comprised a pink choker with a golden bow strap that was spangled with rhinestones and the biggest hoop earrings ever with an iconic golden stripper girl silhouette inside the hoops. As I couldn't get enough of the accessories, I also sported a pink cap with a golden dollar sign. So bright and happy! So purr-fect and epic!

Needless to say, I had kept all the rings on my fingers and put the same number of thin golden bracelets around each wrist, as in five. Why? Cause the more bracelets, the more clanking noise, the more people knew when the bimbo star had arrived. To finish my outfit, I carried a heart-shaped pink purse with golden chain. Totally purr-fect! Totally epic!

Full of attitude, I waltzed into the taco joint like a star-in-the-making ready to take over the world and inspire women all over the planet to become the bestest bimbos ever. There he was! I saw Checo standing at the counter taking an order from some customers. There he looked! I saw him gazing over to me. There he didn't react! I saw him focusing on the customer again. So rude! So impolite!

Even though I acted and looked and felt like I needed no introduction, he let me stand there, even after the customer had been served. I really had to step up to the counter and order some menu 'cause the Latin thug treated me like any other guest. For real! No kidding!

"Uh, baby! I'm... uh... not here... uh... place order. I'm... uh... here... uh... take order." I tried to purr in the sexiest way ever.

Big problem! Checo couldn't understand a word so he was only frowning in response. Why? Cause inflated lips. Oh, I forgot to tell you about that little side effect of my lip augmentation, didn't I? Actually, the constant trout pout totally made me slur my words so I could only mumble.

"Oh baby! I'm, uh totally, not here to, like uh, place some order. I'm, uh totally, here to, like uh, take your order. Fer shure!" I pronounced each word as clearly and distinctly as my trout pout allowed.

No matter how hard I tried, the lip augmentation was all too new. My lips were too massive, and I was still too unpracticed. So my words remained barely intelligible. Gosh! It made me feel so stupid. It also made me feel more bimboy than ever 'cause I was totally prioritizing looks over communication.

"Whateva, biatch! Ya should be fuckin' busy workin' dat fuckin' ass off for us anyway, puta!" The thug responded in his trademark rude way.

"Uh sorry, baby! But... uh... need... uh... help. You know... uh... finding... uh... right dudes." I mumbled helplessly again.

"I mean, so, sorry, baby! But I think I, like uh really, need some help, like uh totally, with that. You know, like uh, finding, uh totally, the right dudes." I took ages to distinctly pronounce each word.

"Maybe you... uh... give... uh... helping hand... Maybe... uh... buddies could... uh... help hoodrat out?" I tried to play it innocent.

Gosh! I really sounded like I wasn't made for talking but fucking only, which was super vulgarizing. The fact that I had intentional created that impression made it that much more obscene. Gasp! Anyhow, it helped to get the dude's attention. That was all that mattered in the end. Actually, I so needed the attention from more than one guy, literally like the more the merrier. Certainly, the ruder the better. That was why I suggested his buddies after all.

"See... uh... accessorizing? Totally epic!" I quickly added when he didn't respond. "See... uh... styling? Totally iconic!"

As I was no longer good at expressing my arguments, I tipped my pink cap to stress my point. My style definitely wasn't swanky-but-not-too-trashy anymore but super-swanky-and-totally-trashy instead. As long as it got me some male attention, it totally worked for me. After all, it had been far too long since some dude had appreciated my fashion sense or complimented me on my looks. Those disrespectful bastards of former co-workers!

"See... uh... huge effort?" I pouted. "Still... uh... got me... uh... no whistles... uh... no catcalls... uh... no offers! Like... uh... zero credit!"

With my newly inflated pucker, I could barely communicate, but I could sulk in the most epic and most iconic way ever. Priorities! Duh! Anyhow, Checo barely seemed to notice. At least, he didn't give any kinda comment. What the fudge was going on with all these men? This was so frustrating! This was so dissatisfying!

"Da fuck! Always said cha too dumb fo' shit." The rude thug told me brusquely. "What cha thinkin', ya stupid puta? It's da middle of dem fuckin' day! I gotta work dis shitty job cuz parole. Can't just fuckin' drop my shit fo' sum hoodrat."

What a shocker! What a stunner! Total monkey business! Total nonsense!

I mean, if I had ever met a gang thug, it was Checo. Still, the dude didn't have time for this hot piece of barrio booty? Silly stuff like parole preceded testing a hoodrat's upgrades? Come on!

"I can... uh... wait for... uh... break." I suggested on impulse. "Whenever... uh... take five... uh... fine with me."

I so wouldn't give up that easily. I so wouldn't get fobbed off that easily. After all the rejections, I would be resistant. I would persevere, 'cause I was fighting for a cause here. I was fighting for appreciation here.

"Ya know, biatch, we're fuckin' shorthanded today cuz sum cabron's a fuckin' no show." He told me. "Ya wanna wait, puta? Ya gotta make yaself useful. Gettit?"

Of course, I took his point! Of course, I was super happy, so much so that I clapped my hands and jumped on the spot über-cheery. Actually, I bounced big-time, so much so that my pink, fake boob tube slipped up and exposed my underboobs. Oopsie!

Anyway, I quickly crashed back to earth, like literally. Why? Cause Checo really made use of my free time. How? By handing me a huge sign. He wanted me to work as a sign holder. For real! No kidding!

Before I knew what was happening, I found myself standing on the pavement in fronta the taco joint. Most importantly, though, I was holding a large cardboard sign in the shape of a taco. So corny! So hokey! My job was simple. Actually, it seemed like the most simplest job ever! I was supposed to point the sign at the taco joint to catch people's attention and direct them to the fast food restaurant. Easy, right?

To be honest, I was kinda like made for this business, like literally tailor-made. After all, I had spent countless hours to look like I could arouse attention in any kinda crowd. To be more honest, this was like the picture-perfect job for a bimbo! I mean, all you had to do was look pretty and catch people's eye. Easy-peasy, right! To be most honest, I felt like I was coming full circle. After all, I had literally dressed like a pavement princess and acted like one. Now, I totally worked as a pavement princess, too. Tihi!

However, some of the stuff Ortega had said turned out to be true once more 'cause my super long, ultra fake jerky tools made it difficult to hold that sign. Have you seen those internet clips of dudes wildly spinning signs and making cool moves with them? Yeah! That was exactly what I couldn't do. Dang!

As a result, I stood there at the curb, simply holding the taco sign in fronta me and not knowing what else to do. The first vehicle drove by, the second one drove by, and several more went past. Oh jeez! This wasn't working as expected!

Another failure! Another setback!

I was still denied the attention I deserved. I was still failing to attract the attention I needed. Oh shoot! I should do better than that! I could do better than that! For this very reason, I started lifting the cardboard sign, not stopping until it reached the curve of my boobies. I basically used the taco sign to support my tear-shaped fleshorbs like a cupless bra. Side effect? My pink boob tube got slightly pushed up to expose my underboobs.

An SUV drove by and a truck and a buncha more vehicles. Holy fudge! The disregard! The disrespect! Worse than that? This was the middle of a weekday, so there weren't that many wheels on the street, which made each one count that much more. Good thingie, though, it also meant that there weren't no cop cars around 'cause barrio.

A white van honked!

Yay! Finally! A bit of acknowledgement! But not much 'cause the vehicle neither stopped nor drove onto the parking lot. No matter what, it was a start. You couldn't win it all right away, could you? Whatever! It encouraged me to continue giving my own bimbo spin to the sign holding thingie. How? By raising it above my head. I lifted the cardboard taco higher and higher until my arms were totally stretched out. Side effect? My fake crop top also slid higher revealing more underboob.