A previous client and I decided to see each other before the Meet & Greet started. He was a client I actually met in Vegas, but he’s an Italian from NY/NJ, and we really hit it off. He fell ill the last time he was in Vegas, and had to go out of town for work when I was in the city in October, so it was really nice catching up with him.
We discussed politics, and obviously we had to discuss Trump, and I said, “I know you hate him as much as me.”
He said laughing, “I don’t think I hate him as much as you do.” But we agreed that we both think he’s a moron.
He identifies as being a moderate, and he is a gun owner, but he agreed there is no need for people to have automatic weapons. There was common ground that we found on different issues, and he was happy to find out that I’m not one of those extreme liberals.
We head to the M & G together, and we order some drinks. We evaluate the crowd, comparing ourselves to the others. He is attracted to my mind and knows I have a good heart, and I appreciate his attractiveness to me is more than just a superficial one.
I did spot a young woman, who was either from somewhere in Asia, or she was mixed. She talked to us for a moment, and I found out that she was new to the business.
We notice an older white woman who has a long, furry, pink coat on. She introduces herself as, Diana Love. At some point, I get a glimpse that she’s topless underneath. My client misses it, but later on she decides to change, and strips down by the window, in front of everyone to put a top on.
We also spot another tall, sexy black lady. My client says to me, that he thinks, she is probably the one who said, “I’ll be the tall one,” on the reply back to the invite. He says something to her, and I comment on how I like her bracelet, and she walks over to us. She says her name is Autumn, and we talk to her for a bit. We have a couple more drinks, and then my client heads out because he has work in the morning.
I continue to stand at the bar. I’m watching over Diana’s drinks as she excused herself to the bathroom. An older man comes up a few feet behind me. I can smell rotten food in his mouth and I’m not even facing him. Thankfully, he didn’t start talking to me. And I kept my back to him just so he wouln’t feel inclined to strike up a conversation with me. I think I would have gagged if I had to lean in to hear what he might have tried to say to me.
I take my drink and I find Autumn again, sitting on a bean bag chair in the back corner. She’s from Toronto and says I should tour there. I tell her I have one fan who keeps telling me to go to Toronto, but because I know it’s legal there, I wouldn’t know how I would do. But she says, I would do well because there’s not many tall, beautiful, fit, Asian women there.
I’m drinking my third Tito’s and tonic, when Diana asks if I want do a shot with her. I agree to and also ask for a water shortly after. Diana, Autumn, and I are not cool enough to be invited to the after party, which I believe was designated for VIP clients and the ladies they picked up there. Diana and I do a second shot with Autumn and I finish my third Tito’s and tonic.
Another couple ladies invite us to go to a club uptown. I get another drink for some reason, and we climb into an Uber, and head to the club with drinks in hand. I drink half of mine and offer it to the woman sitting in the middle in the backseat with me.
Then the liquor finally hits me. And I realize the only thing I ate was an egg and cheese earlier that afternoon. I don’t want to be the messy drunk girl at the club, so at Third Avenue and E. 40th Street, or somewhere around there, I remember E. 40th, but I can’t remember what avenue, I tell the driver and the ladies in the car, I’m going to hop out and go back to my hotel. They were cool about it, and I got myself a cab back downtown.
I was sleepy in the back of the cab, and definitely feeling the vodka. I was happy I decided to go back to my hotel. Impressively, I remembered to get a receipt from my cab driver before climbing out.
My suite had one and a half bathrooms. The half being right near the room door as you enter. I quickly stripped off my coat, dashed to the bathroom, took off my shoes as I was on the toilet, and then passed out on the floor for a bit. I don’t know how long I was passed out on the floor. It wasn’t for the whole night. At some point, I got up, somehow managed to unzip my dress without too much struggle, and fell into bed naked. I think I drank the water in my water bottle before passing back out and filling it up again, knowing at some point, I would need to drink more water during the night.
I think I woke up again around 8 AM, saw a text from Autumn earlier in the night asking if I got back okay. I replied back to her telling her how I passed out and then proceed to order breakfast. I waited for the delivery, ate, and then went back to sleep.
I was definitely hung over, and decided to get my day started around 11:00. There was a possibility I was going to have an appointment. I checked my emails and my texts, and decided to get into the shower and get ready. But of course I didn’t end up seeing anyone, and despite being mildly hungover, I would have preferred to go to the CrossFit gym than gotten ready for no one. It was 34 degrees on Friday, so I didn’t even leave my hotel. My friend mentioned she was headed into the city to run errands, but she and her husband were exhausted afterwards, since they were toting around their three month old, so I didn’t get to see them to get some weed or meet up for dinner.
I ordered some takeout and depressingly wondered why I have whole days where I have zero appointments.
I went to bed around 1:30-2:00 AM, set my alarm to go the gym. I paid for a week pass thinking it would be less expensive if I went every day, but I ended up only going twice. Apparently, I needed to catch up on sleep, and I think my self-doubting thoughts kept me up that night, so I didn’t get up until 10:00 AM.
I didn’t have any appointments for Saturday, since I was initially planning to leave that day. But when I heard that Bill Maher was going to be at Madison Square Garden that Saturday, I told myself it would probably be a cool memory to see him in New York, despite having seen him at the Mirage in Vegas this past year.
I was hoping to pick up an appointment since I had nothing on Friday, but that didn’t happen either. I got ready, just in case, and waited. Later in the afternoon, my friend said they were headed to her father’s in the city and asked if I could meet them there. I waited and didn’t hear from her again until after 6:00 PM. I told her I couldn’t stay too long because I wanted to smoke before the show, but she said I could smoke there.
My Uber ride took forever because of traffic, despite only going up fifteen streets, and over another avenue east. I got up to the apartment, and was not surprised to be greeted by another dog I had not met before. A little puffy, cinnamon Pomeranian barked at me, and I knelt down for the dog to sniff me saying, “Oh, I don’t know who you are.”
My friend laughs her infectious laugh, “That’s Rocco. That’s my sister’s dog.”
“Ah,” I say, but I would not have been surprised if my friend said that this was her fifth dog.
“Do you have any papers by chance?” my friend asks me.
I purposely brought my Raw rolling papers and a lighter with me. “Yes,“ I say.
My friend hands me a paper bag with a snowman stamped on the outside. Inside is my edible Peanut Butter crunch chocolate bar and a small mason jar of my eighth of weed.
“Do you happen to have a Ziplock bag?” I ask. “Hmm, I’m going to have to figure out where to put this going into the show.“
Luckily, my friend has a Ziplock bag that a bracelet was in, and asks if I want Saran wrap it too because it is strong weed.
“Yes, please,” I reply. “I think I’m going to have to stick it up my pussy.“
She gives me a piece of Saran wrap, and I wrap it up tight. I look at the edible bar as my friend rolls a joint.
“I’ll usually eat a whole one,” my girl friend says.
I see on the label that it’s 225 mg. “Oh, fuck, no. There’s no way I’m going to eat this whole thing. I’d be melting into the floor.“ I pretend to drool and slide to the ground.
The bar is broken up into nine equal squares. I try to just take two of them, but the way it breaks off, I end up having a third of the bar.
Her mother-in-law is there and us, ladies, smoked the joint on the balcony, while her husband held the baby.
It was soon 7:15, and I knew I should order an Uber and head out the door to get across town to MSG. I say goodbye to my friend and her family and before going out the door, I quickly shove the Saran-wrapped weed up my pussy.
After the hassle of getting into Madison Square Garden, anyone who’s attended a show there, knows the arduous process of going through security and getting into the theater. I beep when I go through the scanner, and the security guy with the portable metal detector asks, “Do you have any metal on you anywhere?”
“Uh, all over,” I say, “I have piercings.”
“Yeah, that will sometimes do it,” he says as he scans over me. He lets me pass and I get into the line for the theater and then quickly find the bathroom so I can pull the eighth of weed out of my pussy.
It’s past 8:00 PM, probably closer to 8:15 by that point, so I bypass the lines to get snacks because I still have to find my seat and I don’t want to miss the show, despite knowing I would have cottenmouth. Luckily, I had some gun and swapped pieces midway through the show to help with the cottenmouth a bit.
I find the section my seat is in and walk down to the row, since I went by myself I only ordered one ticket, and was hoping I would be somewhere near the end of the row so I wouldn’t have to walk by a bunch of people. I got to my row, and there were two ladies at the end, a seat with coats on it, and then a few more ladies. I figured I was the seat that had the coats on it, but I told them my seat number, and the ladies at the end moved in, so I got to sit at the end.
I thought Bill’s show was funnier than when I saw him in Vegas. Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the edible, maybe because I was in New York City in Madison Square Garden. I did feel he performed more to the crowd in New York than he did in Vegas, perhaps because he knew the majority of us were intellectual, New York liberals.
I left MSG, attempted to figure out where I was. I always get a little turned around whenever I leave there, found a CVS to get some potato chips and drinks, ordered an Uber and waited. I don’t vividly recall the CVS stop, since the edible was really hitting me then, but I knew how important they were going to be once I was back in my hotel room. My Uber was five minutes away still, and then a cab pulled up letting other people out and I asked him to take me back to my hotel and cancelled my Uber.
I got back to my hotel, ordered off GrubHub from Bareburger, I was in a veggie burger and french fry kind of mood. I also ordered some brussel sprouts, that were also delicious.
My girl friend asked about the show and said they were back in Brooklyn and were watching Bill Maher. I recalled that I had not watched the previous night’s ‘Real Time’ because HBO didn’t come through on the TVs and I fell asleep before they posted it on HBOGo.
I pulled it up on my laptop, told my friend it was great to see her and about how I pulled the weed out of my pussy before the show started, but when we were exiting from the show the people around me were commenting on the skunk smell.
I laughed and ate my way through ‘Real Time.’ I put on an episode of ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ and passed out on the couch. I woke up an hour or so later, stripped off my clothes, didn’t wash my makeup off, and went to bed naked again.
I think I was definitely weed hung over the next morning. I set three alarms for 8:30, 8:45, and 9:00 AM. I got up before the 9:00 AM one went off. Got up, went the bathroom, checked out how my makeup lasted, decided to wash it off and do natural makeup, and then went to the bagel shop around the corner that I had been visiting all week. Got my last lox on an everything bagel and ordered half a dozen. I had to go to Duane Reade again and buy more Ziplock bags to take them home.
I unwrapped the weed, rolled myself a small joint, and then started packing all my stuff. I needed/wanted to smoke on one of the balconies I had before I left. I was aiming to leave my hotel at 12:30 PM, and got down to front desk and checked out by 12:25.
I waited for my Uber driver, and by watching his route on his way to me, I had a gut feeling he was somehow going to fuck up on the drive to Newark. Before we got on the thruway, I asked him which way he was going and made sure he was taking the way that was the fastest to get there. But then we missed the exit that took us to the airport, and had to travel in the opposite direction before we were able to turn around, and then we missed another way we should have taken to go back around, so then had to travel further in the wrong direction. And then he had his blinker light on for way too long, and I notice all these cars pass by us. I look at his speedomoter and he’s going 17 mph under the speed limit. I have to point to what exit we need to go, and repeat myself several times to go to Newark Airport.
“Straight ahead! Look at the sign that says Newark Airport!”
We putter along going 15-20 mph under the speed limit. Thankfully, I left with plenty of time to get my bags checked and get through security, and I smoked that joint before leaving, or else I would have been even more pissed. But the last five minutes were excruciating as I watched several vehicles zoom on by us.