Everybody knows this, of course, but it’s rare to see a person of the pretty girl persuasion admitting it:

The majority opinion seems to be that through both a lucky spin on the genetic roulette wheel, and a lot of diligent care and maintenance, I am a Pretty Girl. And as I move through the everyday world, that’s made my life easier on thousands of different occasions. University administrators, traffic cops, doormen, job interviewers and employers, apartment managers, auto mechanics, waiters, taxi drivers, hotel clerks these are just a few of the types of men who’ve overlooked small transgressions, given me extra perks, or somehow gone out of their way for me because I’m a Pretty Girl.

But here’s the really fascinating part — this particular Pretty Girl understands why it works. No, Officer Doughnut-Gut doesn’t really think she’ll sleep with him if he lets her off with a warning. But what he does get is worthy:

I gave those men nothing except my smile and wow-you-are-such-a-great-guy gratitude. And most of the time I was perfectly sincere if someone gives me a break, especially when I know I don’t necessarily deserve it, I am grateful to them. So I show them a picture of themselves in my eyes, surrounded by a rosy glow of Great-Guyness.

And that, Pretty Girl, is not “nothing.”