pillow talk

Just like living in New York City, dating can be so unpredictable.

You’re expecting one thing to happen and the complete opposite happens. Just like living in New York, the unpredictable nature of dating is what makes it most exciting. Though, there are just some things that you’d never, ever expect [in a million years] to occur, and that’s what happened to me last year.

I got tickets to a high-profile black tie event, and I needed a sexy date [like yesterday]. I had a plethora of young ladies who wanted to accompany me for the evening. It was real high-profile, so I did what most guys would do in that case, which is throw a couple of names on the floor, close my eyes, and pick the first name that my stubby little fingers could get a hold of. Very scientific. Right? Not really, but it sounded pretty good when I first considered the idea. My major criteria for a date was “wow” factor. How great our pictures would look on Instagram? How many likes I would get on Facebook? And all of the ooo0s and ahhhs that I would get when I returned to work with all of the photos from the evening? Vain. I know. Also, I’m a child of PR and politics, and I know that if you’re going to mix and mingle with the big wigs you need someone who’s sophisticated enough to keep up, and make that “all-important” small talk with pols. Selfish. I know.

I digress though.

So, I found my date, we went to the black tie event, and we returned to her hotel for the remainder of the evening. It was crazy late, and I considered going back to my friend’s house where I was staying for the weekend. But, I actually brought all of my gear to my date’s hotel since she invited me to come over before the event to shower, change into my tuxedo, and drink overly-priced wine that she purchased from room service. I was also extra tired from being up extra early that morning, and I figured that I’d rather sleep in a huge bed at a four-star hotel instead of sleep on a couch with two other people at my friend’s house. It made sense. So, I got out of my tuxedo, got in bed, and crashed immediately. At some point, I woke up in the middle of the night, only to discover that the lights were blazing in my eyes, the television was on, and pillows were strategically placed between the two of us. I turned around. Looked out of the window. Turned back around and looked at her. Turned around and looked out of the window again. Thought to myself, what do you do in this situation? The only thing you could do. I had to do a Zack Morris “time out” right quick [an ode to all of those Saved by the Bell fans out there]. For those of ya’ll who don’t know, Morris had this uncanny ability to pause any moment live and be able to alter the situation and the future.

During my “time out” period, I was thinking to myself — it’s not that serious. No one is trying to steal your precious cookies. If I was trying to do something, I wouldn’t haven’t taking my tired behind to sleep. Time in.

Fortunately, for my date, she’s not privy to all of the jokes that my friends have as a result of her pillow talk.



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