Today is Monday.
Today I accepted my offer to attend summer school in Galway, because I was on a deadline and had to choose fast. Am I still a little unsure? Yeah, but really, like, no.
My heart says yes. My brain says yes. My bank account says… “Hey gurl, what is you doing? Is your plan to find a pot of gold at the end of one of those rainbows? Cause I’ve got some bad news… you’re gonna need one.”
I’m definitely feeling the conflict right now. I’m just… yeah. Anyway, I can’t think about that right now. I have a new and interesting story to tell from last night and I need to get it out of me right now before I do something really fucking dumb.
So yesterday I went to Art Basel with my friend. It was pretty cool. I always love a good art show. Really enjoyed the themes of the natural world, particularly the seascapes. Lots of focus on animals. Lots of combinations of various old artistic traditions from around Asia combined with newer, more modern styles. I had a great time! Definitely way overpriced in my opinion, but the art was worth it.
While I was there, I drank more coffee than I usually do during the day. Unlike alcohol, I have very strict rules around my daily coffee consumption. Rules I am breaking right now by getting a mocha at 2:30pm. Yesterday I drank three coffees, so needless to say I was WIDE AWAKE and I could not go to sleep. I decided to go around the corner to my fav bar and visit with my favourite bartenders.
I had literally just ordered a glass of wine and barely taken a sip when in walked this very tall, very good-looking man wearing a very styling blue leather jacket. He took one look at me, smiled to himself like he had found the buried treasure he’d been seeking all day, and took a seat right next to me.
Naturally, I was in no mood to entertain a man on this occasion. He didn’t give a fuck. He ordered the same drink I was having and promptly just went for it. Full throttle.
It didn’t take me very long to parse that he is a Scorpio male. Mmm, problem. Big time. Scorpio men are very, very intense. When they want something, they don’t hold back. He was not holding back. However, I was due to the following list of red flags, which he casually revealed over the course of the conversation:
🚩Russian
🚩Grew up in Germany
🚩Currently lives in Switzerland
🚩He is only here for three days! Call now, or you’ll regret missing out on this special once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!
🚩Says he “runs his own business,” whatever that even means.
🚩Claims he is no longer married (sure, Jan), but apparently was very recently married to an Iranian woman, but only for a year, because they got married after six months and then it “didn’t work out,” probably because this guy moves at the speed of light.
🚩Says he loves Trump, describes Russians as “America’s Best Friend” (cue the bombastic side-eye).
🚩Asked me what’s wrong with being a “real man” and why is everyone so obsessed with “toxic masculinity” and am I going to cancel him for being a strong, manly man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it?
🚩Went on a mini-rant about transpeople and LGBTQIA+. I told him to just get over it and mind his own goddamn business.
🚩Made some very, very old school racist comments about black people.
🚩Asked me how I feel if Russia and Iran invaded America tomorrow? I just said, “Uh, well, you do realize that most Americans just casually stockpile guns, right? Just saying. I really think you’re gonna have a hard time taking over the Southsode of Chicago in a ground invasion.”
🚩Somehow came off as incredibly flirtatiously and charismatic in spite of the aforementioned ick factors, which I found very, very concerning.
Really, the only thing we actually agreed on was that neither of us wanted to talk about Israel. That was quite refreshing, actually. Turns out pretty much everyone is sick of their shit, so there is that.
So all of this happened BEFORE he proposed his big, genius idea to me: I should accompany him back to his fancy, luxury hotel that his clients are paying for, and then just stay there with him for the entire three days of his business trip.
I just laughed at him and said, “That is literally the plot of Pretty Woman. Are you planning to pay me for this?”
He was very smooth and suave about it. He was like, “Oh, well, we can do whatever you want. We can eat in the nice restaurants. I’ll take you shopping. You can go to the hotel spa all day while I’m at work meetings and then you will be mine for the evening. We can enjoy this beautiful city together. Just don’t fall in love with me.”
LOL WHAT?!
Hahahahahahaha!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I’m sorry, what?!
Yeah, I just have one question for you, bro: Does the human trafficking happens before or after this very elaborate fantasy you’ve concocted in the last hour you’ve known me?
Second question: Should we send in Liam Neeson now, or wait until after this has all gone terribly, terribly wrong and become an international incident?
Furthermore, I feel like there are professionals that you can hire exactly for this purpose. Julia Roberts would not approve of you approaching her as Erin Brockovich when you clearly want Pretty Woman.
… I forget her name in that movie, to be honest. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen it. Really all I remember out is when she tries to go shopping on Rodeo Drive and tells the snooty shopgirls to go fuck themselves, the scene where they’re at the horse race, and the scene where they have sex on the piano.
Wait a minute…
How big is this luxury hotel suite you’re talking about? Does it come with a baby grand piano? Because I might be willing to rethink your offer if it does, but only so I can say I had sex on top of a baby grand piano. A regular old grand piano is obviously better, but we do have to consider the size of whatever room this is in.
Anyway, clearly he was watching this movie on the plane over here from Switzerland because he was very committed to this idea. He tried SO hard to get me to go back to his hotel with him. So hard. He pulled out all the stops. He even broke out the old school seduction moves from all those 18th century Russian novels about poor, innocent women being ruined by aristocratic men playing psychological games with them.
Yeah, so, as it turns out, that shit is real AF.
It was kinda hot, but also weirdly desperate? Like, he was just trying sooooo hard. It did not help that he eventually revealed to me he had been drinking since his plane landed earlier yesterday morning.
By the end, I was so turned off that all I wanted to do was just shove him in a taxi and send him off into the night, never to be seen or heard from ever again. I did finally get rid of him at the end, but it took a lot to get there.
He was upset at me! He was like, “I don’t know why you’re rejecting me right now. You don’t even understand what I’m offering you!”
What, two days of sex, a couple of spa treatments, and a shopping trip? Big fucking whoop. I can do that myself.
He was literally acting like he had just offered me the entire world on a silver platter and I was just… not all that impressed, to be honest with you. Seriously, what kind of women has he been with who jump at this kind of shit?
It was so weird. I have the worst feeling he is going to show up again tonight and try again. Meanwhile, I am just sitting over here like, “Boundaries, Betsey. Boundaries. Do not fall into whatever honey trap this is. Just say no.”
I mean, of course there is a part of me that is also a Scorpio, and therefore thinks, “But I don’t actually have to like him in order to bang him. I can just get that itch scratched right now and then I never have to see this guy ever again.”
But then I’m also like… but actually I would rather hold out for true love, and by true love, I obviously mean my imaginary fantasy Irish guy who is generally very boring and stable and cozy and quite nice to snuggle with in front of the fire on a rainy day, and is brave enough to get up on that ladder and fix that weird little hole in the roof the squirrels made.
That’s hot.
Wait, do they have squirrels in Ireland? I have no idea. I’m sure they have varmints of some kind that chew holes in things and generally cause problems.
Yeah… nice choice here… should I hold out for the light-hearted romantic comedy about falling in love and finding my family in Ireland, or should we just go straight for the erotic spy thriller and skip right ahead to the steamy sex scenes in the high-rise luxury hotel in Hong Kong?
Such amazing choices the universe offers to me. Really, I don’t think I could make this stuff up if I tried. Really, I cannot. I just go out and sit in the corner alone and mind my own business and then along comes the crazy. Love that for me!
Wild.
Okay, I need a cigarette now. Just thinking about this makes me want to smoke.
As a certain Irishman in Bangkok once said, “To be a slut, or not to be a slut? That is the question.”
Indeed, it is.
