Funny story from last night, which has convinced me that more people are sugar daddies than most would think:
About a month ago, I met a cute 20-something nurse at a bar I regularly frequent. She was surprisingly aggressive with me; I assume it related to the filthy-dirty martinis she was quaffing down. I talked with her for about an hour before getting the distinct impression that this girl was a little emotionally unhinged. You can always tell the Crazies by their laugh: a loud, front-loaded cackle at even the hokiest of your jokes, accompanied by an exaggerated bulging of the eyes. I bought her one final martini, wished her goodnight, and firmly excused myself, figuring I was unlikely to run into her again (New York is a big town, blessedly).
Last night, I got a call from a friend of mine asking for some favor or another. When he mentioned my name in the conversation, I heard in the background that oh-so-distinct cackle followed by, "Oh my god, is that JB?" Sure enough it was her, and he demanded I explain how she knew me, and, presumably, in what sense she "knew" me.
I challenged him: "I met her at a bar. That's all I'll say right now. Where did you meet her?"
"Starbucks," he says.
Starbucks, my ass. No disrespect to my (blog averse) friend, but I didn't buy it. He's a short, loud, obnoxious 45 year-old Jewish ticket broker. He's good for some things: floor seats to Knicks games, recommendations for restaurants, or being the asshole in your group who bitches when we don't get the "the Best Fucking Table in the House", but picking up cute young blondes while standing in line for a morning latte? That ain't him, brother.
And, of course, I let him know that.
He stuck to his story at first --clung to it, really-- while I vividly described just how full of shit he is. Finally, I offered to tell him to what extent I "knew" her if he came clean about where they had met.
"Fuck you. Sugardaddy site. Fuck you twice."
I swear, the sugar train gets more crowded every day.
P.S. - I'll try to update this blog more regularly. I forgot I'd even set it up. But it's nice that a late night on the internet might result in something creatively constructive, rather than another pile of email receipts for surprise SB gifts.