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I knew he was a big deal and had business calls to take, but I was consumed with thoughts of him cheating. He was a grown-up, and he had made forgivable mistakes.
A few years prior, I left a relationship with a guy who cheated on me. He got up to use the restroom, and for the first time ever, I looked at his phone. "I'm ready," whispered my 30-year-old self, fully tipsy and half incoherent.
Unfortunately, most people are also so scared of rejection that they won’t even consider asking a celebrity on a date.
It’s not just in your head, everyone and their mom is on Tinder, and they’re swiping left and right more than 1.4 billion times every day.
But how are you supposed to score dates with strangers when you're unbelievably rich, beautiful, or a C-list celebrity?
Although you might be rejected, you’ll never know unless you try.
As a top pro basketball player, he was used to getting what he wanted. I was working as a VIP hostess at the most exclusive club in LA.
He would show up every week in old-school sneakers, a hoodie, and jeans, and stand in the corner of the entrance, watching me emasculate men attempting to enter. Go find a chick who's impressed with your day job." He would shake his head and mumble, "Brutal, man.
I was in charge of getting celebs to come in—and keeping B-listers out. On one of the early nights, a coworker yanked me aside to hiss, "You don't know who that is? Just brutal." Nights passed, and he grew more ambitious, chatting with me by the door instead of going inside to hang with his entourage.
The gig was glamorous but tough, and I learned quickly that many male VIPs had god complexes and felt entitled to my attention. " I didn't at first, but apparently everyone else did. Finally, the owner pulled me aside and said, "I took you off the schedule Saturday night." "Why? He also paid your salary for your night off." The owner was a good friend who had known my admirer for years and said he had never seen him act like this.
I believed I would be the mystical creature who could change both the athlete and the game. Six weeks after he dumped me, I met David — a short, artsy, tattooed Buddhist who worked in advertising.