Model Lunch

It was a busy Saturday. I prepared a model with lewd legs for a public strut in a nice outfit. The company chose her because of sexual prowess of her lower body. But this woman had a restive attitude as if I was Balaam and she was the donkey. I manipulated her into obedience by appealing to her lust for collecting stares - models, they are all the same.

In general, I find narcissism a weakness in humans, but one I can easily exploit. I was in a sexual mood and she was away from her loved one. I should call him "one who loved her" since models are incapable of loving. Under normal circumstances, I would pursue someone I could have a longer fling with, but not this time. My type was nowhere to be found this evening.

"We're having a party for attendees later," I said. "Many people will be there; Wall Street investors, company executives, even a few celebrities."

She turned and looked at me with interest. "Oh?"

"I'm sure I can find you something that would draw other's attention," I said. "That is, if you want to come."

"Like what?" I opened a massive closet of outfits, highlighting which ones I thought would help her achieve the egocentric fantasy of her heart. She, of course, picked out her favorite - a delectable choice, I might add. And within hours, we were forty stories high in the air with eyes surrounding her.

Things went like I planned. As more eyes watched her, I could sense her power dissipate. There comes a point in every narcissistic woman that she feels immutable to anything and that's when she loses everything. I introduced her to more people - big names as well. She loved every minute of it. It was like endless options lining up to meet her and small wrinkles of joy lit her face.

Many evolutionary psychologists state that women are really looking for a life with endless options. If a man is just looking for some for an evening, presenting a woman with options works far better than alcohol. Men, it really is this easy.

A few hours later, we were back at her temporary place for the weekend show. Distracted by the stares of the evening, she released her straps and the outfit slid down. The gratuitous sex was a temporary fun, but I quickly left for a cigarette. She thought I would return with some for her, but I didn't. I like to leave in a hurry when things are done with models in wonder. You may consider this mean, but remember: these people never think of anyone else. That and irony is life.

I enjoyed my walk home; the darkness peering everywhere and office lights visible in every building. A few people stumbling through the streets with profane remarks or carefully walking with loving comments. Safety running around on every street and danger smirking in every corner. I love this city, yet I do not love its inhabitants.

© 2009 The Serial Monogamist. All rights reserved.