Boys Beware — by Chloe Is My Alias

There is no such thing as a total wash. Even the most obviously pathetic night can take a sudden turn for the best if you have the right attitude. Luckily, attitude is something I’m never short on. 

It’s a general rule of mine to steer clear of little boys. But every now and then, someone catches my fancy and I get blindsided. I met Hot 20-Something Guy poolside at Soho House. It must have been his tortoise-shell Persol sunglasses that made me give him my number so willingly. After a week of his cryptic Hot 20-Something Guy texts, he finally figured out how to properly invite me for a drink.

Soho House was packed. As the elevator door slid open, the heat and the music hit me hard. I made my way through the throng of beautiful people out onto the roof deck, where Hot 20-Something Guy was waiting. We stood near the edge of the pool, the Manhattan skyline glistening in the background. Hot 20-Something Guy was getting less hot by the second; making small talk, taking long sips of his drink without offering to buy me one.

Taking the evening into my own hands, I headed for the bar. As I passed through the thickening crowd, I bumped into my former boss – the CEO of a prominent high fashion label. Immaculately dressed in his signature dark denim, white button-down and blazer, he kissed my cheek (proper Brit that he was) and insisted on buying my drink.

I returned to find Hot 20-Something Guy surrounded by a group of friends. After making cursory introductions, he charmingly announced that he was going in search of beer. I chatted up his very unstylish girlfriends (apparently some people still wear giant hoop earrings in earnest) in between deep drags on my Marlboro Light. A camera flashed as someone snapped my photo; I could not believe I’d donned my vintage Chanel navy matte sequined dress for this.

Just as I was about to call it a night, another attractive 20-something guy approached. A friend of Hot 20-Something Guy, this specimen was actually far cuter. Let’s call him Media Guy.

We sat on the plush couches and I couldn’t help but notice our knees gently touching as we talked. Hot 20-Something Guy was nowhere in sight – much to my relief. I placed my hand on Media Guy’s thigh while smiling and gently biting my lower lip. The conversation turned heated; I could tell he was aching to get me home, aching to slide the silk straps of my dress off my shoulders. He invited me back to his place for a nightcap; I couldn’t wait to see what he had in mind.

(cima)

Proposed by Dandyakuza on Tuesday 08 June 2010 at 09:58 PM

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Love it!

By Anonymous · 09.06.2010 · 06:48 PM

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