It was 1990-something and one of my best friends who happened to be a coworker (let’s call him Bear) had just bought a house on my block in the Jersey suburbs. Every day we car pooled in and then whoever was least drunk at the end of the night would drive home. This story takes place on a Thursday after getting a call from college buddy, who had the knack for making every party’s potential out to be like the super bowl. Since none of the events ever actually lived up to his hype, we nicknamed him Walt Disney. Walt rambled on about how he got me plus one on the guest list to some Tribeca club named “Shine”. The party was being thrown to promote a new fashion line and was guaranteed to be jam packed with wall-to-wall models.
Fast forward to 8pm that night where Bear and I were having a few mandatory post-trading day kiss ass cocktails at Harry’s. Bear asks me what was up for the night so told him about Walt’s nirvana claim. With nothing better to do we hopped in a cab and headed down to Tribeca. We arrived just 5 minutes later but not before the 200 dudes who were forming a line around the block. Having seen this zero chance show before, I simply refused to get out of the cab. Bear having more faith in Walt than I did hopped out to check to see if we were on “this list.” To my surprise, the next thing I see is Bear waving me over and into the club without hassle. This is when things get interesting.
This was the one night Walt was spot on, the place was paradise. Every girl was hotter than the last and the booze was free. Typically, out of the two of us, Bear always got the hotter tail, but this night – I brought my A-game. I locked on to a beautiful blonde and employed the nag technique. This girl would have had an easier time removing one of Sigourney Weaver’s alien hatchlings off her face. By 11 o’clock we were hammered and I was pretty sure I was about to get laid. One problem though, Bear who was an absolute puddle, comes over, mumbles something about car keys and tells me he’s driving home. Since I can’t let my boy drive in that condition I asked the girl for her number and figure that’s the end of my night. Wrong!
The girl (Let’s call her Miley) responds to Bear by saying, “Why don’t you both crash with me?”… BINGO. We quickly gave each other that look like we were about to have a really good story for the desk tomorrow. Now at this point I know the best thing I can do is say as little as possible. I can only screw things up. However, my wingman on the other hand is a problem – he is completely blown-out and useless. We left Shine around midnight and start walking to this super model’s loft. We pass two cops standing on a corner, one comments on Miley’s short skirt and Bears stumbling. She whips around and says,”Don’t you wish you were these two guys? Because I am about to take them home and f#@k both of them.” HELLO…(Bear and I quickly exchange the great story look again). Miley then turned to Bear and softly said, “I’m only kidding Bear, don’t get excited, I am only having sex with him (pointing to me)” Honestly – I can’t even pretend to feel bad for Bear and I couldn’t get up to her loft fast enough. Little did I know I was about to enter the Twilight Zone.
Keep in mind that my drunk wing man is understandably salty at this point. The elevator to Miley’s apartment opens to a massive loft with 35 ft high ceilings. Jackpot! As we stand there in amazement we couldn’t help but notice hand painted murals all over wall of naked women in provocative positions. The conversation goes as follows:
Bear: Wow who is the broad in the paintings?
Miley: Why it’s me
Six: Bear you must be exhausted, can I get him a pillow for the sofa?
Bear: Man that’s hot. Who painted the pics?
Miley: My dad
Six: I hate to be rude but is there any way to can get me some water?
Bear: Your father paints you naked. Man that is so dirty.
Miley: What did you just say?
Six: He said it’s hot in here and he is thirsty.
Miley got Bear some water and steered me towards her bedroom which was directly off the living room. It’s was an odd set up in that there where large blind covered windows along the wall separating the living room from her bedroom. Why would you have windows looking into your living room?
While Miley made up the couch for Bear, Bear discretely suggested I adjust the blinds so he can perve. Naturally I obliged. The pressure was on. My boy was watching and for better or worse my performance would surely be the twisted topic of discussion on the trading desk the following day so I needed to put on a show – and that’s exactly what I did. I’m talking full throttle crime scene sex. Slapping, choking, insertions, deletions, biting, throwing, spitting, juggling, circus flips, snorkeling, fishing – we did it all. Occasionally without reason I would just scream things out for effect. This whole time Miley is pleading with me to keep the noise down. Finally I stopped to ask what her problem was… “Don’t worry about Bear. He’s passed out cold”, I assured her. To which she responded, “No No No, I don’t care about Bear – I DON”T WANT MY MOM AND DAD TO GET UP.”
Good God. Was I that drunk? Why hadn’t I noticed the ‘N SYNC poster, cheer leading trophies or the 8 million stuffed animals lining the shelves in her room? In a big brother voice, I slowly asked her age. Luckily, “I just turned (Insert the legal age of NYC at the time)”, is what she said. Panic set in as I frantically tried to untangle my tossed shirt from a Furby when suddenly I heard a muffled crash coming from the living room followed by hurried footsteps. It was Bear knocking something over and scurrying his way back to the sofa. What spooked him?
And here comes mom heading right for Miley’s Door. “What’s going on in there!?” Naked as a Jay bird I hid under her Little Mermaid comforter and Miley sprints out of the room to intercept her mother. Some heated conversation took place outside the room as I seriously contemplated braiding her New Kids on the Block sheets into a rope in order to scaling down the 25 story building. After the longest 10 minutes of my life, Miley comes back and simply whispers how everything was fine. she had explained to her mom how were friends from school and somehow that made everything OK. I found it a little strange that she believed we were friends from school since Bear was sprawled out in an Armani suit and full beard pretending to be asleep – but who am I to argue.
My exit plan was to wake up at 5 am, get Bear, switch ties, and make the morning call downtown. Like a cat burglar I snuck out of Miley’s room and tip toed into the living room. BANG!
There’s Bear having breakfast with the old man and her mother. They were talking stocks and sipping coffee. Before I could fully digest the moment, the mom handing me a towel and asked me how I liked my eggs. After an awkward and bizarre breakfast, Bear and I switch ties and grabbed a cab.
After giving the taxi driver instructions we both just sat starring out the window. After a few minutes I turned to Bear and said, “That was really weird.” “It sure was”, said Bear, “the old man thinks PMCS is a buy up here.”
-Six Gun
