Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Me and the Millionaire I met a millionaire. You would think that our meeting would be glamorous, a fairy-tale like, something taken straight out of The Millionaire Matchmaker or any other reality TV shows paying the rich to show how rich they are. But no, I met mine under such common circumstances, that I did not believe he could actually be worth more than me. I was in a long line leading to the security check point at some big city airport. I stood there all in my fancy get up (including 4.5 inch heals) and not because I wanted to look like �oh shit, look at me, I am a young rich professional�. Oh no, my reasons were more... practical, so to speak. I was so extremely sunburnt, that only fancy dress pants and dress blouse incurred me with less pain than jeans and a tshirt. Go figure. So I am standing there, pretty annoyed, because the last thing I want to do is be in high heals in the airport. �They won't let you in with that thing.� I hear a voice. I turn around to the person uttering the words. I briefly but very obviously scan him from top to bottom. Son of a bitch! He was wearing Converse... How I wish I was too! He had his Pink Floyd Shirt and black jeans. Eh... who DOESN'T like Pink Floyd, is the shirt really necessary? But really... really, I would do anything to wear a Tshirt just now. And that was that. The rest is history. After an hour of just utter craziness and combined hyper ADHD induced energy, we decided to exchange info. He is an owner of some hot shot medical company (yea, right, I thought). He is glad he met me, they're looking for expansion within the government (I actually believed that story). Then we parted and I forgot about him. Week later I got a call, on Friday afternoon. Oh my! That ain't no business call! That is some super long distance booty call! I didn't answer. Instead, I did some research. The man, in fact, was couple hundred million dollars richer than me. He was and still is very single. And I was just getting potty trained when he graduated high school. I told my friend about this. She suddenly got jealous and exclaimed I must milk him for his jets and yachts and all that. I called back, mostly because I liked the personality, but for nothing else. And to make my friend jealous. And I called back during a business meeting. Go figure. Then that was that... in a nutshell. Needless to say, my friend is extremely jealous and now considers hanging out around in the airport to bag guys. Oh dear, I just got pictures of his dogs. Son of a bitch! Is that how he tries to get me? Smooth. But my Punkster is super sweet too.... 10:18 p.m. - May 14, 2011 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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