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Someone worldly and finishing-schooled with a spaced-out surname, like Van Der Kneelsön, and a first name that was pronounced in some frou-frou way like I decided against that because I can't keep a poker face worth a damn and I'm not even sure what a mid-Atlantic accent is.
I donned a modestly sexy ruffled long-sleeve low-cut wrap dress and went with a neutral shimmery dewy makeup lewk.
I guess it's good then that I did not lead with my original ice breaker, which was "Hello, how much money do you have, please?
"Anyway, J and shark-belt dude seemed to be chatting it up, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom and bumped into the event host and CEO of Lasting Connections, Sameera Sullivan.
(I also insisted as a kid that when I grew up I wanted to doodle on napkins for a living, so I think my parents were mostly concerned that their daughter was destined headlong for the lifelong struggles of a napkin artist).
I'd dated a rich dude or two in the wanton youth of my early 20s, and let me tell you — along with having all your meals paid for, fancy things at your beck and call, and never having to take a subway, rich dudes have so many uniquely strange and tedious issues that can only come from an extremely privileged upbringing with little to no actual character-building conflict (unless you count the extreme pressure from their wealthy families to be some sort of business mogul) or sense of reality.
The two youngest men in the room who appeared to maybe be mid-late 20s immediately plunked down on a sofa in front of the pool, hands and eyes glued to their phones.
My plus-ones and I huddled in the kitchen near to where new trays of snacks would come out, surveying how we all chose to spend our evening."Yeah, no one here is cute," J said, in between bites of a skewered gyoza.
" J asked me, going above and beyond as wing-woman and host.My answer would be no one but that defeats the purpose of this romantic death march so she pointed out two men in matching belts (notable because there were tiny whales and sharks on said belts) to approach for some social toe-dipping.I don't actually remember how the bulk of that conversation went because I couldn't help but think of that guy in who was too busy being an '80s guy. " question, the answer to which I'd come to realize would be the same for nearly every dude there — "oh my buddy so-and-so knows the guy who's repping this house listing/works for the magazine sponsoring this event, who invited me." Either most of them are lying or this wasn't as exclusive an event as it was purported to be.Sameera was constantly glancing around the room, hawk-eyeing her party guests, before abruptly turning to me and asking me if I liked outdoorsy activities (I do not), before we were interrupted by other guests inquiring about certain gentlemen.I let her talk shop and returned to find my new friends. "You should come over here and hear about this guy's skincare line!
Only men seem to pay for this service, and she works with other matchmakers to cross-pollinate databases.