The first entry has always got to be good, right?

So let me start with my Sex and the City encounter, without the sex.

It all began when C and I were hanging out at our usual lounge. Let’s just call it "Headquarters." We were both tired and were ready to go home, when a man with the whitest hair we’ve ever seen approached us and said, "Can I get you girls a drink? I’m the owner."

Ok, now I’ve heard a lot of pick-up lines in my time, "Are you girls choreographers?" "Did we go to elementary school together?" "Do you want to come to my NYU dorm?" (I can only roll my eyes in embarrassment for the dude who had the nerve to ask me to his dorm), but being offered a drink by some guy who claimed to be the owner was a first. However, oddly enough, a manager came to clear our dirty glasses, and another manager brought us our new drinks.

Hmm...this is quite possibly NOT a scam.

Long story short, I emailed the guy (we’ll call him Mr. W for his White hair) thanked him for his generousity, he emailed back asking me to dinner, and the next thing I knew, I was tripping in my heels out of shock in seeing a Rolls Royce limo come pick me up. I was in that state of shock the whole way to meet him that I even contemplated whether I should put my feet down in his car in fright that I might get the interior dirty.

I met him at a hotel where he was working (apparently he owns part of that too) and before heading off to dinner, he took me on a tour of the lounge there. And it was there that I started feeling like the dumb trophy wife, even though, I’m not dumb.

Dinner was at probably the best Italian restaurant that I’ve ever been to, where you have to make reservations months in advance and even then, you’d have to wait an hour or two before you’re seated. With Mr. W, we waltzed right in and got VIP treatment, and it was then that I realized Mr. W can show me a world I’ve never been exposed to. He even knew a couple regulars there, one in which had been there 6 nights a week, and on that particular night, was with a woman who is NOT his girlfriend...>< (Sigh, men with money are all the same. And the more money you have, the worse you get.)

Dinner was amazing, of course, but I was in such a tight dress, I could barely fit myself into it, much less course after course of pasta and meat and bred and champaign and wine, etc etc. I took practically everything to go, and can probably live off the leftovers for a week.

Things got interesting when we went back to Headquarters. I was introduced to his staff, 4 managers to be exact, but "managers" is just a nice way to put it. In reality, they were more like his little bitches. They had to bow and keep their mouths shut when he was angry. They had to follow at his heel when he wanted them to. They had to look at me and tell him how beautiful I am, even if they may not think that. They had to carry his stuff, get his stuff, put away his stuff, cater to his every need.

The funniest, and probably most pathetic though, was when Mr. W told dumb jokes, they had to laugh like he was the most humorous man alive. I laughed too, of course, but only because it was hilarious to see these grown men roar in laughter when it was obvious it was not funny.

You wanna know something even more pathetic? However these guys came off as little bitches, they were SMOKIN’ HOT!! (Ok, I admit, a big factor was that they were wearing suits...C would say it’s my "vegetable.")

Anyway, it turned out to be an interesting night that I don’t regret having. I learned that Mr. W may look loopy, but he was in fact incredibly smart, detail oriented, and perceptive. Nothing can escape his eyes, and next to him, even with my masters degree and life experience, I was still the dumb blonde.

I may not be able to develop a romantic relationship with him, but I do think I can learn a shitload from Mr. W.

A couple things I learned that night:

1. The tall tower next to Headquarters is the Empire State building. After a year and a half in NY, I finally know this.

2. Retail is detail. EVERY, LITTLE THING MATTERS.

3. I need to bring a pack of tissues wherever I go in case I need to wipe off my shoes before getting into a car.

4. I don’t like Grappa.

5. Don’t be fooled by hot men in suits. They are just someone’s little bitch.

6. I’ve always liked older men, but I like the hot young men in suits even more...wink wink...

7. I may possibly have been born a blonde.

(To be continued...hopefully...^^...)

J