I am a bit of a muse for trouble. It seems to be inspired by my very presence. No matter where I am it always finds me. My friend and I were out for dinner this past Friday, wanting to have an early night we settled in for a few glasses of wine on a cute patio in the Lower East Side. We kept ourselves amused with people watching, and seeing as the LES is all of a sudden the new Meat Packing District, sprinkled in tourists, there were some stand out-stars.
We decided to head over to the Bowery Hotel, a favorite spot of mine, for another round or two. Upon arrival we were promptly supplied with a steady flow of champagne and cigarettes. After glass number 5 of champagne the bartender insisted we do shots with him. His friends had joined us in our drinking and I could tell Scarlet had her eye on one.
We soon found ourselves leaving the Bowery and heading to a random dance club. My friend, like me, is totally gorgeous. She too is in the fashion world, working as an executive assistant for a major CEO. Let’s call her Scarlet.
Scarlet had been totally working it at the Bowery… You could tell there was sexual tension by the way they were looking at each other. It was kind of hot to watch, although I’d rather have been involved. The two of them danced into the night, as I took a long drag of my cigarette and watched from across the room. That was my exit cue.
Fuck the rules; living on my own terms is the only option. You don't like it? Then stop reading now because it always starts the very same way. So, I met this guy…
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