The Wrong Ben

I was at the club with my “friends” from Hollister and a promoter pretending that we were models. I felt “fake fancy.” We just went to dinner at STK with some real models and I felt like a fraud. But I sucked it up and drank the free vodka.

Soon enough, I was on top of some chiseled face Eurotrash’s shoulders. My blue leather dress rubbed against his fitted black leather motorcycle jacket. He put me down and we made out like animals. We played weird tongue games. I think that he was Italian but I couldn’t tell with the loud music and tongue games going on. He was hot though. He was probably a fake model too.

I could see the real models glaring at me from the corner of my eye. The point of a club was to sit pretty and be seen, not to dance.

Black Out

I woke up next to some guy in the most enormous, gorgeous apartment that I’d ever seen. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for the guy. He was chubby and hairy. But even worse, I’d woken up wet and naked next to him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What was I going to tell my boyfriend? And how was I going to get home?

I tried to put my leather dress back on but couldn’t. I was wet and it was extremely tight. I could barely get it on the night before. The guy, who wasn’t thrilled with me for peeing his bed but was actually very nice, was willing to give me an old tee shirt and pair of boxers for the walk home. The white tee and gray boxers both had images of fire on them- weird.

To make matters worse, one of my heels had broken. Unfortunately, the guy didn’t have shoes for me. It turned out that the guy’s name was Ben, the same name as my boyfriend. I left Ben’s apartment in Soho and was going to take a cab home but guess what? Apparently I didn’t have my wallet either. Awesome.

So I held my new boxers that were way to big on me up with one hand and used the other to dial my boyfriends number. And I started walking home to my apartment in Chelsea- barefoot.

It was my first and only time cheating and I was terrified of the reaction that Ben might have. But when I reached him and told him what had happened, he was completely, and sort of weirdly fine with it. I was relieved and confused. But more than that, I was hungry. I wished that I’d had my wallet to buy some food.

 

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