In which I discover my Destiny

I haven't quite figured out why, but I seem to have a penchant for attracting men who fall under the following categories: emphysema, mustache, beer gut, infidelity and OLD. The "Furniture King," a client of my first boss who fell under ALL categories, once offered me the promising position of Mistress #2 - and I was definitely 18. So naturally I accepted.

On the second leg of my late flight from DC back to LA, I had a seat next to just such a man. THANK GOODNESS. Because the Earth would have been thrown off its axis and major catastrophes would have ensued had I FOR ONCE been seated next to a man who showered, brushed his teeth, and didn't snore while being fully awake. I didn't know that I had to add "Capable of breathing at a normal decibel" to my list of man requirements, right behind "Alive" and "Does not live in a car."

So there I was - stuck. My iPod died, I finished my book, and I couldn't sleep. AND I was sitting next to Vito Corleone's unfortunate twin brother whom we've never heard of because of his inordinate amount of phlegm that constantly must be hee-hawed out. Let's call this man Jerome, Christened after THE NEIGHBORS (Joe Dirt) clan leader himself, because they might as well have been the same person. Anyway. As I do in all situations in which I try to escape from reality, I concentrated on my favorite topic: how to unite quantum laws with general relativity before Edward "M-Theory" Witten does, the tosser.

Just as I was getting somewhere, Jerome leans over into my personal space in a very Chuck Bass way, and oh how I would have given anything for a piece of that Bass at that moment instead of the Jerome leering down at me.

(Chuck Bass, NOT Jerome)


Jerome: Whatcha writing there darlin'?

Me: The next big break through in theoretical physics actually.

Jerome (grinning smugly): That's a big word for sucha young blonde thing like you.

Me (attempting to raise one eyebrow): You're right. Excuse my psychobabble. What I meant was that I was doodling hearts and rainbows around what could be my new last name, depending on which of my 5 boyfriends I end up marrying.

Jerome: Well then why don't you try putting it with my name - after all, I could take on all those boyfriends of yours. Plus, I own a Cadillac.

Me: Huh. . . Good to know. I will take that into consideration.


And after some careful contemplation, I have decided that this could be an opportunity that the Universe is presenting me, and I just keep slapping its hand away! I mean, we all know what a great trophy wife I would make. So the next offer I get I am totally taking and running with. Jerome may be no Chuck Bass, but he DOES have a Cadillac.