How to Make Someone Else Pay For Your Luxurious Vacation: Part 1

I was back home from another so-called date with the Greek God. I was more con­fused than I had ever been at any other time in my dat­ing past, includ­ing any hus­band and the Stet­son man. I had flown to the Greek God’s city. I had taken a roman­tic heli­copter tour with him. I had seen where he spends the major­ity of his time. We talked for hours in the park. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, but he had dropped me off at my hotel and I had flown out a day later, with­out so much as see­ing him before I left.

The Stet­son man would be arriv­ing home any day now—or at least that’s what I thought. I didn’t have any sort of itin­er­ary for him. I had started to won­der if the Stet­son man would even be com­ing home to me. I had no idea what our rela­tion­ship had become.

I had just landed in my local air­port when the Greek God’s sec­re­tary phoned me. Her direc­tion was clear: I was to meet the Greek God in Par­adise Island, Bahamas the next day. She stated that his time was really com­mit­ted to his team, but he wanted to sched­ule a day or two every other week for us to be together. This week, he wanted me to travel to Par­adise Island with him.

I thought to myself that this sounded rather odd, but I also real­ized he was a ter­ri­bly busy man, what with his ball team and all. I didn’t know whether to feel spe­cial that he wanted to pen­cil me in, or to be irri­tated that I was being put on some­what of a back burner. The whole thing was just bizarre to me. The Stet­son man never treated me this way. It was appar­ent the Greek God was some­what inter­ested in me.  It was also very appar­ent the Stet­son man had not con­tacted me in nearly three weeks. Beg­gars can’t be choosers.

I took the direc­tions from the sec­re­tary. I already started plan­ning my wardrobe in my head on the car ride home. His sec­re­tary pur­chased a first class seat for my flight to Par­adise Island and she had sched­uled a limo to be at the air­port to take me to my Greek God upon my arrival. I kept telling myself that I could make this work. I felt lonely. It was begin­ning to feel like a job inter­view that never ended.

The morn­ing of our next date started with my phone ringing—it was the Greek God. “Good morn­ing, princess.” My con­fu­sion dis­ap­peared the minute I heard his voice. I knew I had to do this…