Monica Ford- Taking aim at herself
Written by Nathan Riley Matters   
Thursday, 09 August 2007
Page 1 of 3


Monica made me cups of hot soy latte, no foam, on my periodic absences without leave from work.  When no one was looking I’d sneak out, drive down to the Barnes and Noble and plop myself down in the big cushy chairs with my drink and the latest issue of Juxtapoz magazine.  Later on I’d walk out with the Juxtapoz, unpaid for, like I’d walked into the place with it.  The arms of the cushy chairs in the B&N café, were stained with the spills of a thousand cups of coffee.  And a thousand farts were trapped inside its cushion.  The chairs had been slept on, and eaten in, but they swallowed you up, and you just couldn’t leave. Not until you sucked the last taste of coffee from paper cup container.

The lattes were courtesy of Monica Ford, who poured them flawlessly despite the obvious long hours of work or play that preceded her shift.  She moved from the register to the latte bean juicer, gliding across the thin cushion of air that separated her feet from the floor.  She move like some disheveled angel with frayed wings and tussled locks.  On some mornings she’d bowl you over with that sleepy smile, which cast a shadow over a faint imprint of her mattress, still on her face.  The more crumpled she came to work, the more beautiful she was to watch.  There’s nothing sexier than when a girl who feels like shit, looks so hot, and just doesn’t care.
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Glubdub :
So how does it make you feel to know that some people will be using your art to get themselves off?
Monica Ford:
Hmmm…I wish they’d turn on a fan in this place. That makes me blush. But truly, I think that is what every kind of art is. If it’s any good, it does get you off on some level so, thank you. Oh and I’m all for safe sex!

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