We used to laugh and call her “Olga, the fat Russian girl”. She had no eyebrows, no neck, a puffy face and frizzy hair like a bad perm. And what was with the donkey jacket? Definitely an immigrant from some where cold, and eastern European. Her bemused ghost smile softened the deathly pallor of her complexion, so starkly contrasted by the black of her hair. She was most likely younger than she looked, but it was hard to tell.
It’s a wonder they let her travel at all, but she never went particularly far. Just Europe and the UK, she even made it to America once. It’s remarkable she passed through customs with no trouble, considering the strict security checks post 9/11. It’s been 10 years since Olga first made her appearance.
Olga’s replacement, let’s call her “Justine”, is flushed with close cropped blonde hair and strong eyebrows. One of which seems permanently raised, like she’s challenging you. Her leather jacket and flicked eyeliner give off a mid-century vibe. We think she could be French, but of course her passport says otherwise.
Fact is, she looks no more like me than Olga did.