Why I’m So Happy I Ditched My Friends For a Sugar Daddy

I was never patri­otic, so when Inde­pen­dence Day came around, the last thing on my mind was to go out and cel­e­brate. I was bored and I was lonely, and though the peo­ple I was going out with weren’t my nor­mal crowd, they were friends and fam­ily that I grew up with. Diana had her man, Mar­sha had hers, and my cousin Lisa had her own.

I was the only one who was sin­gle and my taste was just too high—the kind of men they dated did not appeal to me. They were street boys that lacked ambi­tion; to me, they had noth­ing going for them. I wanted the exec­u­tive, the entre­pre­neur. I was start­ing to become very accus­tomed to the kind of high-rolling lifestyle and the exclu­sive par­ties that my mod­el­ing career had intro­duced me to.

As me and the girls stood wait­ing for a cab, I couldn’t help but pity myself. I was unhappy about my life. At 22, I yearned to be in a rela­tion­ship. I felt I had so much to give a man, and yet I was sin­gle. Had I been in a rela­tion­ship, I wouldn’t be going out cel­e­brat­ing. I would have been going on one of those long dri­ves I love to take, per­haps in a con­vert­ible with the top down and my hair blow­ing in the wind.

We were stand­ing there for about 15 or 20 min­utes before I told the girls that I’d wait five more min­utes and if we didn’t get a cab, I would be going back home. Diana shouted, “That’s the rea­son why I didn’t want you to come, with your holier than thou attitude!”

I replied calmly, “As if it’s such a plea­sure to be around you with your vul­gar­ity.” Diana was loud and tended to be embar­rass­ing at times. She had no fil­ter and, quite bluntly, she lacked both class and taste.

About three min­utes later, a blue pickup drove up with a notice­ably older gen­tle­man dri­ving, and what looked to be con­struc­tion work­ers sit­ting in the back. As he slowed down in front of us, he said, “Don’t move. I’m com­ing right back!” He drove off, leav­ing a trail of his cologne, as he sped off.

We ignored him, think­ing he was mess­ing around because we were stand­ing there look­ing as if we had nowhere to go, but lit­er­ally moments later, he came back—he had dropped off his con­struc­tion work­ers. He stopped, asked us where we were going, and told us to get in. As he started dri­ving off in the oppo­site direc­tion, we all shouted, “You’re going the wrong way!”

A lit­tle dis­heart­ened that we were going to have to get out, I said, “It’s fine. We’ll just con­tinue to wait for a cab.” He hur­riedly told us to sit tight, and that he would get us there in 45 minutes.

As we drove on, he told us his name was Keith and asked for our names. He also asked what we had planned for the day and why we were going where we had told him to drop us off. With a hint of dis­gust in my voice, I quickly blurted out, “They all have boyfriends there.” All the girls were quick to retal­i­ate with, “You talk too much.”

When we finally arrived at our des­ti­na­tion, I could see all of my friends’ men around a table gam­bling, look­ing like a bunch of bums and thugs—absolutely not my taste! The last thing I wanted was for one of these guys’ friends to think I came for him and start chat­ting me up.

As soon as we got out of the pickup and Keith was about to drive off, I shouted for him to take me back to where he picked us up from. Diana shouted, “Slut,” to my back as I got back in the vehi­cle, hop­ing Keith didn’t hear her and pre­tend­ing not to hear her myself.

He turned, looked at me, and said, “You were the rea­son why I picked you all up. I wanted to get to know you, so I’m happy you decided to leave with me.” This was just the beginning.