It is true that I am utterly busy and I try to do a lot all at once, but I work better that way.  It is very hard to find someone on the same wave length as me when mine is moving much faster than a normal 24-year old.  Unlike in college, when everyone’s was all reaching for a common goal; to graduate.  And because of that, there’s been a price paid.

A few posts ago, I wrote about a guy that I met at Lair in NYC who I thought was gay because he was wearing a girly scarf.  That was May.  A few weeks ago, I received a voice mail from a number that was not stored in my contacts.  In some sense, it was a blessing in disguise because I do not like to talk on the phone unless the call has a purpose.  Also, I would have picked up assuming it’s related to my newest venture.  Nonetheless, I get a voice mail.  Shockingly enough, it was scarf man, also known as Chelsea.  (Yes, he had a girl’s name, another reason why I thought he swung the other way.)

Chelsea leaves me a message saying, “Hey Sabrina.  I hope you remember me.  It’s Chelsea, the bald-headed fella you met at Lair.”  I immediately cringed for his choice in vocabulary. “I have been in LA for the past two months doing business and never got a chance to connect with you.”  Okay, I was intrigued.  I knew he was an “agent”, but that was the extent of what I knew.  He continued, “I hope you aren’t doing anything, so give me a call when you have a chance.”

Okay, first, I had to decipher this message.  These days, no one calls to wine and dine a potential candidate, so I immediately thought he wanted to talk business. Because I thought it was business related, I decided to call back. My anxiety got worse as the rings started to extend. Thank goodness he didn’t pick up. So, I left a message that I had mentally prepared. Like any girl would do, I told my girlfriends. Jenny was the only one who actually met him. She was there with me that night. Jenny and my friend, LC, also decided to tell everyone that I was a Princess from Bangladesh. Of course, people believed it not knowing that Bangladesh is run under a multi-party parliamentary system and not a monarchy.  It was also the reason I thought Chelsea wanted to talk business. Of course, the girls are telling me he totes wants to take me out, blah, blah, blah.

Here’s the thing; I am not a bull shitter (excuse my French). If I know it’s not going to work, there’s no reason for me to go out on a date and/or casually hook up. It’s wasting their time, but more importantly, mine. I know what I want and there’s no changing my mind.  (Good for a career; bad for personal life.) The girls tell me to go for the free meal, and that just irked me.  As clichéd as it sounds, I am one to buy my own drinks at the bar, make my own decisions and take care of myself, so the “free meal” deal doesn’t work for me.  Plus, why do it when I know that I have no interests?  Not fair to the other party.  I have to think realistically.

Chelsea texts me back after I asked what he was insinuating in his voice mail.  Long story short, he was trying to ask me on a date. DOH!  It’s not a good sign if I initially thought you were gay and was trying to set you up with my gay buddy, but turned out to be straight.  I avoided the question and he went on saying some cringe-worthy things.  He used words like “HELLAVA”.  That same night, I went out to dinner with a few ex-coworkers.  Three dirty martinis later, I decided to say, “Okay.”  The only pretense is that it would be somewhere in the middle.  He lives in the city, so if he came to me, it would seem like a definite guarantee into my panties, but that wasn’t going to happen, especially when I wasn’t attracted to him.

The next day, there were no texts, no calls, nothing from Chelsea. No date was set, only destination, which was a sigh of relief. 5PM hits and I get a text. Chelsea goes on saying that his girlfriend doesn’t like the idea of him giving me a “HELLAVA good massage”, but that we should still “play”.  Yeah, I know. I was thinking the same thing. Who agreed to a “HELLAVA massage”?  Just kidding. LOL.  He failed to mention he had a girlfriend the night before when he was trying to be “suave”.  I tell him there was no shot that I would agree to anything when he has a girlfriend. Ironically, he tells me that I met her that night and we were getting along and she liked me. WTF?!  I don’t remember meeting her, however, I also don’t remember giving him my number, so it shows you what state of mind I was in.

Now, I am in this weird conversation how his mate is his “pseudo girlfriend” and that she wouldn’t mind. First, I am a girl, I know how they think. They can say they don’t care, but they do.  Secondly, I am no one’s second choice. Thirdly, I am too old for ménage à trois.  Over it.  In short, he tried to make it seem like I was being the child for reacting the way that I did, which was, “You can’t be serious?  Peace.” After much justification, I was over it. It’s like I get it.  YOU ARE STRAIGHT! I get you aren’t a gay guy who thinks I am a Princess and has a pseudo girlfriend, but enjoys hooking up with other girls to hide your true being. This was wasting my unlimited text messages and my time. Chelsea asked if he could still meet me to talk business, and I am the biggest Opportunist, so I figured what the hell, especially when I am trying to do big things. Networking is key!

Chelsea asked for my email. I have a few email accounts, all directed for different purposes. Because I own this site, I have an email account that ends @sabrinadiana.com, which many would know that the domain must be a website. So to be clever, I decided to give him my Gmail account because I wanted to blog about what happened. Unfortunately, this is what happened instead:

I was trying to text that to the group chat I have with my girl friends.  To think, I am actually really good when it comes to sending the right text to the right person.  In this case, I slipped.  Chelsea actually bugged about me blogging about him and said he had “his lawyers are on retainer”.   I laughed.

I met him after I finished 50 Shades when I was on this hunt for a “Christian Grey”.  That bit me in my booty, not that I was expecting him to be my Christian Grey. I also came to a realization about Christian Grey and how he is not real and is actually a pervert. GOL! Basically, my love life has come down to straight/gay guys with girlfriends trying to woo me into having some kinky “play dates”. And with my expectations of my future, I don’t think any man will be able to handle me or my craziness.  Maybe I should start dating older men.  They probably have reached their goals already and wouldn’t mind supporting another.  But then, the thought of wrinkly semi’s gives me the heebie jeebies.  GOL!

On aside::  A few years back, Christina (Aguilera… we are on a first name basis) came out with this retro album that received horrible reviews.  Recently, I started to listen to it again and it’s a great album. Ironically enough, two years after it released, it reached the top five albums on iTunes.  Maybe people weren’t ready for her bold album.  Take a listen!  I love this chic! And this song is what’s up…