Thursday, November 29, 2007

High Maintenance

Fresh from my double New York Rangers rejection, I am walking down Central Park West and someone shouts my name. I turn around and I see a good friend of mine, who is a tall, fabulous, and very gay real estate agent to the stars standing in front of 15 Central Park West. We chat for a minute while he is waiting for his client with a $20,000,000 budget to show up - and a chauffeured, black Escalade crawls to a stop moments later and a really young looking guy in a really great - outfit emerges from the back seat. He was the client. Not his Dad, not his boss, him. Wow - now I officially feel like a loser as I think he and I are about the same age and he is buying a place that is maybe $18,000,000 more than I could afford. So much for feeling like a success - when you have someone like this guy to remind you that you are not. I say goodbye to my broker friend and I am literally trying everything in my power to get over the fact that I was stood up the other night by Fatso on Ice. I stroll through the bizarre mall like setting of Time Warner Center. I peruse the aisles of Whole Foods and I even popped into Barnes and Noble - so that I could flip though "He Is Just Not That Into You" because I lost my own copy and I am feeling too cheap to buy another. I should have just bought the book again. It has such pearls of "Don't give him a chance to reject you again"; "You are not easily forgotten. Let him find you when he's ready." and "No answer is your answer." My God, that Greg Behrendt is my guru when it comes to dating. He really is.

Meanwhile, by the time I get my nose out of the book I am borrowing - so to speak - my broker friend had left me a couple of messages. His client was apparently more taken by me than by the $20,000,000 apartment! Wow - that is quite a compliment - well, by New York terms, at least. The client wanted permission to ask me out on a date. According to my broker friend, he runs a huge hedge fund; he is a Yale grad; and his charm and sweetness far exceed his tremendous bank account. Gulp. I'll take one please! Things really can change in a day. Permission granted.

Dough Boy with a stick - consider yourself forgotten. Officially! Nothing like a cute hedge funder to erase my memory of you completely. Whew!

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