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Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Southern California Reality

I wrote several months ago about how my search for a mistress was complicated by meeting a fantasy woman in NYC.

A few subsequent data points on the cost of relationships, stimulating thoughts from a hooker on freedom, and a few incredible experiences in Asia, and some personal issues further confused the situation.

Having returned from Asia, I had a set of meetings that included a rendezvous with another VIP from Asia, who I will call "Mark."

Mark was a business associate of Park from previous Asia trips, and someone with whom I wanted to make a strong business contact. He was in the US for some business, so I told him to meet up with me in Los Angeles, where he had spent his youth.

I was going to arrange a night to remember. No, nothing like the birthday I arranged, or the party for his associate. I didn't have the time or desire for anything that wild: something lower key, but fun.

Now this is a guy who is exceedingly well-educated, brilliant, and very important in his country. But as we all know, all men have the same weakness for fast toys and fast... well, you know.

I made arrangements surrounding two primary features: Pink's, and a high-end Southern California escort.

Pink's is southern California's most famous hot dog stand. Now Mark and I could have dined at any number of ritzy, trendy places, but no place is worth as long a line as Pink's.

The escort I arranged, let's call her "Z", was a gorgeous, very friendly, and well-known woman, who was a delightful planning companion. We discussed the planning arrangements via email, phone and in-person. I would recommend her in a heartbeat, and frankly found her interesting myself.

The Beverley Hills Hotel Bungalows are a classic place for a Hollywood tryst, and that's where I found a bachelor pad for the couple.

I arranged dinner, event tickets, a car, a bottle of champagne... the whole nine yards.

Did it go well? Well, let's just say that the dinner, event tickets, and the car went unused all night... but the champagne was consumed.

In my book, that means: "it went well."

So meanwhile, what was I doing?

A. Working on my seven new Asian business plans, in order to scam another trip there.

B. Drinking my way though the entire minibar top to bottom, thinking of Z.

C. Enjoying eight hours of non-stop sex until my partner, whom I had met at the airport arrivals lounge the previous day, literally passed out.

D. Surfing the club scene, after tearfully dumping yet another hopefully aspiring girlfriend.

Well, you'll have to guess...

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