Charlotte's Mirror

Maybe I was a bad choice to interview Charlotte D'Alma because, in a way, I hate her. And that's not just because we have the same first name, although that is a very weird thing. It's just that she's done everything I want to do in my whole life and she's only one year older than me. In my first year at journalism school, I had to read a lot of newspapers and magazines for my research projects and I kept running into her everywhere but the sports pages, talking about television and success. She's so big that in a way she makes me feel small. I don't know why her favorite color is any more interesting than my favorite color.

I never planned to meet her before I was famous myself. But then it happened that she was doing a tour of shopping malls to promote some cheesy new TV series that nobody wanted to watch, and the shopping mall people were trying to drum up traffic by offering an interview with our college newspaper, and I'd decided to hang around the newspaper office all summer instead of going home to be hovered over by my parents. By early June most of the other underclassman reporters were gone and the seniors were either drunk or still taking exams, so I got assigned to the interview. Actually, the summer school editor tried to send another girl, but I lied and said she'd already gone home so I could get it. Having read all those stupid articles about Charlotte D'Alma, I think I was most qualified anyway.

On the day of the interview, I rode the bus out to the mall, writing notes on my lap with my legs stretched across the aisle. The bus driver told me to put my feet down, but I left them where they were, knowing full well I could smash him under my boot when I was famous. It was an old mall, bypassed by the highway and getting to be known mostly for the rollerblading possibilities in the parking lot. I was feeling pretty confident as I rode up the escalator to the closed-down beauty shop where they were holding her. I had already decided that my questions were going to be tougher than the ones everyone else asked.

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Library of Congress copyright TXU632947

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