Bianca's Take March 2016

We had agreed to meet at the Roxy Hotel bar in Tribeca at 3pm on a Tuesday.  I had a charity event starting at 7pm that I was on the fence about attending.  But it was a perfect excuse to leave if things got awkward with the doctor and I needed to bolt.

I didn't have time to get my nails done before our second date, so I attempted a sloppy DIY manicure in the back of my bumpy cab ride.  I was wearing a tight fitting black lace dress from DVF and black booties from Zara.

I had already made a conscious decision not to sleep with the doctor until I felt completely comfortable with him.  It would feel less transactional that way.  Besides, he seemed so patient and gentle with me.  As non-traditional as this type of relationship was, I was determined not to seem too “easy.”

I waltzed through the revolving door and into the grand sun filled lobby.   There he was, calmly seated in a corner with a single white envelope in his hand.  It must have been the $1,000 he was bringing for me.  A sort of down payment for our arrangement.  

As I approached him, he smiled warmly and stood up to greet me.  My fears and inhibitions slowly began to melt away.  What had I been so nervous about?

We sat down and he ordered me a glass of rose bubbles.  Even though he did not drink, he seemed to know a great deal about wines.  I smiled and let him pick a good one for me.  I liked that he took charge, yet also seemed mild mannered.

After a couple of very expensive glasses of bubbly, I realized something.  I hadn’t felt this comfortable around a man in a long time.  This is when he leaned in to me and said…

“Bianca, I have one problem.  And that is that I am a very presumptuous man.”

“Is that so?  What do you mean doctor?”

“I’ve taken the liberty of booking a hotel room here at the Roxy tonight.  Just in case you feel like skipping your charity event.  This is not to put any pressure on you, Bianca.  You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel like doing.”

His eyes were so kind.  I felt like I had known him for years, not days.  I decided right then and there that I was going to go upstairs with him.  We headed up to room 711.

When we walked into the room, I tossed my grey fur coat on the armchair and made my way over to the window.  The moon was bold and the views of the city were spectacular.  He approached me slowly from behind and put his arms around my waist.  We stood there for a few silent moments in the soft glow of the city light.

And then without a word, he turned me around and kissed me for the first time...

I waited nervously for the doctor at the bar of the Carlisle Hotel. He was running about ten minutes late, so I ordered a glass of rose champagne. I fidgeted anxiously with the champagne flute and attempted small talk with the bartender.

For a brief moment, I questioned how I had gotten here. One week prior to this blind date I would have never dreamed I’d be seated at this bar, awaiting a married man who was essentially interviewing me to be his mistress.

I wondered why he seemed so eager to meet me. Were my pictures that alluring? Was my bio that intriguing? He seemed so accomplished in the world of science. My tagline on my Making Arrangement profile was “Blondes have more fun!”

I had a pit in my stomach. Surely there were other non-married men I could meet on the site. What was I doing here? I looked down at my coat, hanging underneath the bar. I considered collecting my belongings and walking out the door, but I really needed the money. That's when he walked in…

He approached me. He looked exactly like his profile picture. A bit like a geeky Tobey Maguire. He was 41, 5’11” and flipped his shaggy hair from one side to the other. I could tell he was nervous. Maybe more than I was. I felt a sense of relief.

We were seated at a table in the corner and after a couple of cocktails, I learned a bit more about him. He was born in Argentina and had lived all over Europe and Asia. It didn’t take long to realize he was very different from other men. His IQ was off the charts, which became increasingly obvious as he revealed more details of his life. He was solving complex math equations when most children were learning the alphabet. He graduated medical school when most people were beginning puberty. I was intrigued.

He told me a little bit about his former arrangement Laura. Their relationship had just ended amicably after 14 blissful months. He alluded to the fact that his wife knew about his flings and didn’t mind his indiscretions, so long as he remained safe and didn’t disclose any of the details to her. Even though it seemed unusual for a wife to turn a blind eye, I had heard of marriages like this where the wife tolerates her philandering husband, in exchange for a certain lifestyle. This eased my mind a little about an affair with him. He seemed like he just needed a little attention and affection in his life.

I had already lied and told him I had a dinner party to attend later that evening, just in case I needed a definitive end to our afternoon drinks. After a few drinks and interesting conversation I looked at my phone. It was 5pm. Time to leave for my fake dinner.

I kissed him on the cheek and he walked me out to get a cab. Before putting me in the cab and handing me $100 for cab fare, he asked me a strange question.

“Bianca, were you ever bullied in your life?”

“A little…Why do you ask?”

He smiled and replied, “You have behaviors and traits consistent with someone who has either been bullied or abused in their lives. I believe we may be cut from the same cloth. Don't worry. you are safe with me, Bianca.”

He kissed me on the cheek and hailed a cab for me. Even in my champagne buzz, I knew this would be the beginning of a very interesting journey.

In preparation for my first date with the doctor, I got a spray tan and eyelash extensions. I was prepared to take my sugar baby responsibilities very seriously. I bought a snug fitting floral dress by Aqua from Bloomingdales that I paired with sky high Vince Camuto black booties. He wouldn't know what hit him.

Sure, his texts seemed a bit eager, but it was charming to have someone like him who knew what he wanted and went for it. It had been a while since I had a guy seem very into me, and we hadn't even met yet. Wait until he saw me in this dress...

I felt confident and ready but suddenly something dawned on me. I was planning the future with someone I hadn't actually met yet through conversations via text. Was I safe?

Day 1: I had successfully narrowed down the sugar daddies to four options. I had even created a spreadsheet with their details like occupation, net worth, lifestyle budget and location in Manhattan. I needed to keep all the facts straight.

I began wondering just how many sugar daddies I could handle at once. Two or three seemed reasonable. I decided to take a break from sugaring briefly so I could search summer rentals in East Hampton on VRBO. Before I could chose a house in my imaginary new budget I got a text from one of the guys...

Three months ago, I found myself tossing and turning in the middle of the night.

After a painful divorce in 2014 that left me cash strapped, I found my modest little nest egg had dwindled down to the last twigs.  I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pay the next month’s rent in my sunny Tribeca studio.  As a single 31 year old woman and freelance designer I knew I needed to take immediate action.  I was in a dire situation for sure, but how would I dig my way out of the hole and back to financial breathing room?

In my mid twenties I had a sugar daddy that financed my entire life for the brief two months we were together.  It was heaven.  I didn’t have a care in the world and had all my needs met and then some.  A spontaneous trip to Gucci for flashy accessories and wads of cash being shoved into my purse became the norm in those days.  Wide awake at 4am, I found myself suddenly longing for that kind of financial freedom again.  Being in my early thirties now, I would surely be more responsible with the money, right?  After all, I was older and wiser and knew that relationships of this nature were fleeting.

Wired but determined, I Googled “how to find a sugar daddy in NYC.”  To my surprise I found several websites that matched wealthy men to attractive ladies in need of monetary assistance.  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  There was an entire online market devoted to meeting the needs of financially strapped, attractive gals like myself.  I had hit the jackpot.

Too excited to sleep, I went to work on setting up my profile on Making Arrangement, a website where you can keep your photos private, request a certain “lifestyle budget” allowance per month, and many of the men are background checked.  I made sure to fill my bio with key words like “free-spirited” and “drama-free” that I knew would attract lots of suitors.  I sat back and smiled at my carefully crafted profile and clicked to confirm.

By noon that day, my inbox on the site had over fifty messages.  I weeded out the messages with overtly sexual tones and skimmed down to five or six possible sugar daddies.  By the end of the day, I had three dates lined up for the next week.  In my mind, I began to imagine juggling two or three of these relationships at a time, socking away money and building back my cushy nest egg.  I pictured hosting my friends at my summer share in East Hampton, with maybe enough extra cash to hire a private chef for a weekend here and there. It would all be so easy...