The Lawyer

I met the lawyer on Bumble last year about a month or two before I moved to Los Angeles. I think maybe his name was Ryan. Or Mark. Or James. Okay I don’t have any idea what his name was, but I remember that he was some fancy criminal defense attorney who clearly had tons of money he enjoyed spending on women. He was attractive, but probably not a guy I’d really notice out in a bar. Very standard white male, average height, average build, dark hair and eyes, a nice smile and looked very much like your basic 35-year-old attorney guy. We didn’t have a whole lot of conversation before we agreed to meet up, and I knew I was moving away from Austin soon so I really wasn’t too concerned with him being Mr. Right…but a Mr. Right Now who wanted to take me on a date, well I was down for that.

The lawyer suggested we meet at Perla’s, one of my favorite spots in Austin. When I got there, he was already sitting at the bar wearing a perfectly tailored suit that looked expensive. He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and said he’d ordered a bottle of rose’. I liked his style already. Perla’s is known for their oysters, so we ordered a couple dozen and enjoyed the each other’s company for a couple of hours. The lawyer told me about how he splits his time between Austin, New York City, and Los Angeles and that he really just likes to have a few pretty girls in each city to spend what little down time he has with. Nice dinners, fancy parties, and no strings attached.

Sign. Me. Up.

After we finished the bottle of rose’ and our oysters, the lawyer suggested we go get drinks at Hotel St. Cecilia, a fancy boutique hotel where celebrities and hip wealthy people stay just off South Congress. He was a member there and had his personal suite he stays in whenever he was in town. I agreed to go, and it was within walking distance of Perla’s so we walked over that way, hand in hand. Our conversation stayed very light, basic flirtation, he told me about traveling and being a high-priced attorney, I told him about my plans to move to LA. He was the perfect amount of asshole. Like I knew he probably didn’t give a fuck about my life story, but he was interested enough in what I did for a living or what my professional aspirations were. We had drinks sent to his room and he showed me pictures and things from his most recent vacation in Thailand.

Once the drinks were gone we began making out (as one does), and things went from there. There was really nothing remarkable about the sex. He went down on me, put on a condom, and then we had pretty basic sex. A little missionary, then doggy, then he came. It was fairly quick and size wise he was pretty average. The sex seemed efficient though, which honestly made sense to me considering his lifestyle. Everything was done with purpose and efficiency with this guy. I imagine a long-term sexual relationship with him would have been really boring, but hey at least I came.

After we had sex, I got the feeling that he wasn’t the “hang out and fuck again later” type. Like he preferred to sleep alone sort of guy, which was fine with me because it was a Thursday night and only about 10pm at this point so I could still meet up with friends who were out for the night. I began to get dressed, and as I mentioned I was going to meet up with some friends he called a car for me to take me all of one mile to meet them. I certainly didn’t mind that. I went into the bathroom to make sure I didn’t look like I’d just gotten fucked, and when I came out the car was there. He walked me out and told me he was going to be traveling for the next couple weeks but he’d let me know when he was back or to let him know when I was in LA. We kissed goodbye, I hopped into the car and reached into my purse to grab my phone. But what I grabbed instead was even better.

Next to my phone were 5 crisp $100 bills.

Did I just accidentally become an escort? Did that seriously just happen? Did I just get paid for sex? I couldn’t believe it. I texted him a simple “Saw my gift, thank you!” and his only response was “Of course, beautiful, be good.”

I seriously could not believe what had just happened. I texted my friend Sarah that she would not believe what just happened and when I told her the story she couldn’t stop laughing. We joked that he was my new sugar daddy and I offered to buy a few rounds of shots to celebrate the absurdness that is my life. We got to Green Light Social on west 6th, ordered a round of tequila shots and when we lifted the shot glasses to toast I said “thanks daddy” as we could barely stop laughing long enough to take the shots. All night long we loudly thanked “daddy” for the shots I bought with his money and Sarah told the story of the night to just about anyone within earshot.

The lawyer and I kept in touch for a little while, but our schedules just made it too difficult to meet again and slowly the communication stopped. I’m sure he’s got his LA girls already, but who knows, maybe one day we’ll meet again. I was never really the type to specifically go for men who would spoil me financially or be my sugar daddy or anything, but after my date with the lawyer, well let’s just say I’m definitely accepting sponsor applications.

Author: meredithactually

Writer, joke teller, certified trainwreck, and craft beer aficionado from Austin, Texas residing in Los Angeles, California.

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