Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Day 130 - Douches Are Forever

December 16th, 2009

Last night I was sitting at a bar alone waiting for my friend at La Fonda Sol, a modernly expansive, expensive and upscale tapas restaurant next door to Grand Central Station. Amongst a swarm of men in suits, I sat there with my house red, bed head and fun suede boots. Who were these guys? Were they investment bankers? Were they douches? Are those words interchangeable? I didn't know this world still existed. It felt so…I don’t know...1999. Just a decade ago, the “Blair Witch Project” actually scared people, giant cell phones had antennas that looked like PowerPoint Presentation pointers and young men making too much money were running rampant in Manhattan before they pillaged the Hamptons. Yet, there I was in 2009 sitting at a bar in an Americanized version of a Spanish restaurant surrounded by people flaunting their apparent status when their status is that of bullshit.

I did get approached by one of these guys and very kindly faked receiving an incoming call that was of the utmost importance. I felt a little guilty and would have engaged in this conversation if we could pretend it was 1999.If that scene could magically happen, I imagine it would go like this:( Let’s refer to the guy as IBD – Investment Banker Douche. )

“Jax’s Encounter With an Investment Banker Douche in 1999”

IBD – Hi there Blondie. I’m Investment Banker Douche and I saw you sitting alone and felt like I needed to buy you a cosmopolitan. That’s what you drink.. right? Are you more of a Carrie or a Samantha?

Jax - I’m a Jacqueline. (I only engage him because my friend is late and I’ll need material to write about 10 years later.) You can buy me a scotch.

IBD – I like a girl who can drink the hard stuff. Speaking of hard stuff…

Jax – Stop. Seriously…stop.

IBD – I meant my wallet sweetheart. It’s packed with $100’s for this weekend in the Hamptons. Spending cash. You should head out east with us. My buddies and I have a House in Sag Harbor. John F. Kennedy Jr. generally hangs with us but he’s flying out to Martha’s Vineyard with his hot wife. You can stay with me in my room with four other guys who will be making out with women with low self-esteem in twin beds.

Jax – I appreciate the offer but I’m going to take it easy this weekend.

IBD – That’s cool. That’s cool. Maybe go to a movie…my boys and I just saw “The Sixth Sense”. Have you seen it?

Jax – I have not.

IBD – Bruce Willis. Dead the whole time.

Jax – Wow. You really are a douche.

IBD – Excuse me? I couldn’t hear you over “Hit me Baby One More Time”.

Jax – I said it was great that Lance Armstrong won his first Tour de France.

IBD – Huh. Like he’ll be able to do that again. I have to say that you do look familiar.

Jax – You probably recognize me from two television roles that I turned down…topless blond in "Oz" and the mother in a Hebrew National Hot Dog commercial. (

IBD – I thought maybe you were the blond that I was making out with at the Limp Bizkit concert.. I was wasted and can’t remember the face..but everything from the neck down seems similar.

Jax – Nope. That wasn’t me. Oh. I see my friend just walked in. It’s been so delightful chatting with you Investment Banker Douche.

IBD – Jackie, the pleasure has been mine. I see you and me having a drink at Windows on the World…

Jax – Truth be told IBD, I’m not dating these days because I’m consumed with this Y2K problem that could change life as we know it once the millennium arrives. It might sound cryptic, but I’m just reflecting a lot lately and I just feel silly having a drink with you on the 106th floor of the World Trade Center where nothing bad ever happens. I just don’t feel right. Perhaps we can find each other on Have a good night.

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