Tara
Tara Firm could easily pass as Demi Moore’s younger sister—five and a half vertical feet of perfection, jet-black hair, blue eyes, an ample shelf, and gams that tapered swiftly like a pair of baseball bats, only sexier. In short, her body was hot enough to smelt copper. What got her into real trouble was a mind and corresponding tongue sharper than a linoleum knife.
She was raised in Upstate New York by two easy-
going hippie parents who later became ruthless yuppies
when they cornered the organic yogurt market.
Patchouli oil and BMWs proved to be a poor mix. Her
parents divorced after many years of bad vibes and
sold the business. Her father, feeling lost and
guilty, joined the Peace Corps and remained in a
remote part of Peru barely accessible by llamas for
most of Tara’s childhood. Her mother, feeling neither
lost nor guilty, became a hedge fund manager and
retired five years later after an impressive 23%
average annual return.
From an early age, Tara had her choice of men.
She was easy to fall in love with, but resentment soon
set in when she finished the Sunday New York Times
crossword puzzle faster than her dates could finish a
Heineken. None of her relationships survived an
episode of “Jeopardy”.
Tara graduated Princeton Cum Laude with a double major in Economics and Communications. Her goal was to become a partner in an advertising agency. Her real goal was to marry her soul mate, have three kids and run her own pottery studio. This relentless controversy between head and heart had produced a driven career woman with a tough, guarded exterior that protected her from chauvinism, sexism and category 5 hurricanes. The only two things that could penetrate this barrier were true love and peppermint schnapps. One of the two had eluded her for 30 years. The other was under the kitchen sink of her two-bedroom Encino townhouse next to the 3-year old canister of Drano.
Tara adjusted the collar on her navy blue suit and blended in her eye shadow to look professional instead of cheap. She was dressed for success, as well as her new job as account manager for Ad Infinitum. She was hired to handle the Dragon Star account. She knew very well that in addition to the home entertainment portion of the business, she would have to deal with Buddy Boy. While she wasn’t crazy about the subject matter, she believed the new advertising campaign was brilliant, which enticed her to join the agency. In that kind of creative and dynamic atmosphere, she could thrive. At her previous jobs, she had hit the glass ceiling before she was even shown her personal cubicle.
Tara didn’t mind rolling up her sleeves and getting dirty. But she had her limits. And anyone who dared to cross that border uninvited was sure to get a proverbial kick in the proverbial place where the proverbial sun don’t shine.
