I completely forgot to let ya'll in on that "lunch date" I was telling you about the other day.
Well, let's get right to that.
I pull up to Luckie Food Lounge (yes, they do serve lunch) about 1:15. Valet was a bit slack but hopefully, that eager young nig who took my keys has enough sense not to scratch my truck. The lunch crowd, normally, isn't that bad so I figured spotting my "mark" wouldn't have been too hard.
(I will explain the term "mark" more in depth later.)
Let me mention first that the set up was a blind date; and in my business, blind dates are not for the close minded. The main focus going into a situation like that is to get that money. That's what alot of these nigs don't realize these days. Acting all uppity and sh*t. I don't see no damn money falling out the sky.
But back to what I was saying...the only real problem with these "blind dates" is that the friend who decides to procure my service (or any services at that) fails to assess the situation as it should be. In other words, they figure that beauty "is only skin deep" and tend to leave out minute details about what the person might look like or if they have some kind of condition.
In some cases, I believe them.
Wait, how much is the insurance on both an 08 Ferrari and an 07 Escalade? And considering that the Ferrari is only driven in the city limits on the weekends?
Trust, my insurance company doesn't take compassion as payment on the third of every month, so being ready for any situation is necessary when it comes to getting paid.
For example, I was hired as a "date" for a fundraiser type gala a few months back as a date for a woman named Myra Dawson. Myra...oh, Myra.
Now mind you, Myra is in her mid-50s but she got that Tina Turner thing going on so she still got one helluva body. Myra is also one of Atlanta's black social elite and very heavy on the city's political scene. I would probably have to kill you if I told you which state Senator she had been married to considering that there is still a pending investigation into her late husband's business dealing as it pertains to his death.
So keeping the story short, Myra:
* Has money (longer than that of her deceased husband who came from money himself).
* Political influence and power (who do you think is pulling behind the scenes moves on the state's HOPE scholarship initiative).
* A very, very, able handicap (I'm gonna tell you in a sec. Just wait.).
During a recent gala event at The W Hotel (as her date), I noticed she had a slight limp. Wasn't nothing I was really concerned with because it was either from some sort of surgery or just natural progression of age. So I...
Man, f**k this...
The moral of the story is that despite the fact that Myra had a prosthesis didn't mean that her feminine parts didn't work!!!
Oh and please believe, I waxed that ass!!! She popped off that plastic (OMG I thought I was about to pass out when I first seen that sh*t. Was like that scene from I'm Gonna Get You, Sucka) and in I went. Even in her old age, she still had a little gush to it; but, mentally, I had to block that nub of a leg out and keep cool because moments like that don't happen to people everyday. You'll probably get freaked out if I go into more detail; but like I said, closed minds don't get paid.
So back to the "mark" (A "mark" is a name I generally give for my clients) who was sitting in a rear booth in the restaurant, looking to be preoccupied by a PDA and some paperwork. I will admit, she was a cute, thick sista...kinda like a poor man's Jennifer Hudson.
Lisa, Lisa Morton was her name and she was a lawyer...better yet, a partner at one of those huge firms downtown that specialize in criminal defense. Can't remember the name though. There wasn't a ring on her finger to signal she was married, although I had already done some preliminary research on her before our rendevouz for my own piece of mind and conversation purposes.
The first 30 minutes or so we just talked about our backgrounds, like where we went to school and whatnot. We even figured out that we knew some of the same people, or at least met some of the same folks in passing. Even though I knew what she did, it was easy to see that she was happy in her career choice as she seemed to go on and on about her job. It wasn't until she inquired about my business that the situation itself became a little tense.
"So what do you do," she asked.
I'm a consultant...with a event planning company," I replied. "Opulent Creations..."
I tried to stay away from explaining to much of what I did as I knew little about actually planning an event as I did about "entertaining" people. To throw her off, I even tossed around a few events that I had hoped she had heard of before to at least make her think I was legit.
In the meantime, our food and come; and after we had eaten and talked a little more, it was about time to wrap it up. Truthfully, I figured that f**king was not on menu for this one, and I, for one, didn't really care to do it anyways. I had already gotten paid by her friend beforehand so there really wasn't anything left to do. It was a nice lunch. We probably would never see each other again, despite possibly changing professional information and saying our parting pleasantries. She didn't look like one who would be a repeat customer, nor could I really consider dealing with her outside of a professional environment.
So I pay for the meal and we give each other a friendly hug...I make ready to leave. Mind you, I didn't notice that she had pulled out her pocketbook.
"So how much for one more hour?"
That definitely threw me off guard, but I chose to play along.
"Will $300 more do," she asked.
"Excuse me," I said.
"Well, I hope you didn't think that consultant bit actually worked, did you?"
She got me. I was impressed.
"I mean, you are a little too good looking to have such a semi-entry level position. That suit is by no means cheap. And that SUV you pulled up in is probably an '07 model," she went on. "Plus, I know the types of circles my girl. Amaree, runs in."
"Oh," I answered, still trying to play dumb.
"That just not my circle. But I'm a big girl...and a quick fix should do me some good before I get back to the office."
Slyly, I smiled...not just at her willingness to take control of the situation, but the fact that she accepted the game for what it was...
ALL BUSINESS.
