The Hungarian Sugardaddy and A Pet Lion: My Reality and My Dreamworld

To explain how I ended up at a formal dinner where my roommate and I were the only two women under forty five in a room full of over 100 ex-football players would actually be fairly simple, but I think it makes the story more interesting if we jump right into the action. After our first drinks (rum and diet coke...but mostly rum), rolls and a salad, most of the other dinner guests paid strict attention to the speaker while the staff served the main course (which included both steak and chicken). But Frankie, my new Hungarian friend, since we were sitting at the same table, paid his strict attention to me. I should have known things would shortly head downhill when his friend leaned over to me to say that Frankie really needed to be distracted from bidding on the silent auction. Apparently, he'd already thrown down over 10 thousand (which he could afford, says his friend). We try to distract Frankie so he won't blow his entire fortune on football memorabilia. I begin talking to him and learn that he used to play soccer for the Hungarian national team. Still not sure how he was connected to the football alumni event we were attending. Perhaps he got confused by America's athletics misnomer, "football," which means something entirely different to us than the rest of the world. Regardless, I had an old athlete on my hands. Quite literally, really, since he kept grabbing my hand and kissing it. "I give you my number," he says, and I laugh because it doesn't require me to come up with the right words to respond on the spot. "I give you my number, and you call me. I make it worth your while." His accent is thick, but not so much so that I don't realize this is a proposition. People are staring and hoping we'll hush him so that everyone can listen to the speaker. "You call me. I take you to Beverly Hills. I pick you up in nice limo. We go to nice restaurant. I buy you nice things." More awkward smiles. More forced laughing. "I give you my number. You call me. I take you to the moon!" An impressive offer if I've ever heard one. His friend tries to help out, and Frankie leans over to him, but I overheard. So does everyone within a table's radius of us: "I know I'm ugly as **** and old, so I must pay for love..." More shh-ing. Eventually the roommie and I make our escape, but not without more hand-kissing and Frankie's card in my purse. Of course I throw it away (lies: it's sitting on my desk) because I would never actually call (despite my desire for a shopping spree) since it's completely inappropriate (not to mention a pretty sweet offer). Do people actually do stuff like that??

So on a completely unrelated note, I dreamed last night that I was living in the Menlo house again, only it was a real house with a garage and a back yard. And our landlord was over, trying to assess our request for an orange cone to hold open the gate in our backyard. I think this was a sketchy thing to ask for since we wanted it for some secret entrance for Alli during an upcoming event. So being the best liar in the bunch, I come up with some excuse and take the landlord to explain and demonstrate. Mid-excuse, our pet lion digs up a yellow cone (not what we really wanted, but it would do) and presents it to me. Everyone is thankful for the lion who saved the day. A couple of my friends write a song to honor him and promote lion-awareness and respect for this underrated species. The lion stands up and gives me a hug. He is strong and dangerous, and when he strokes my hair I think about my vulnerable position and how he could easily rip my head off. Meanwhile, the song is a hit, and I think about the hidden Christian implications of a gentle lion who could kill you but doesn't. Later I am at a big hotel in Vegas where we are having a retreat. Scott and Lara put me in charge of Harper, so I carry him around from club to club. At one, I finally find Justine (because apparently I am looking for her) and she's having dinner with a bunch of people I don't know. So Harp and I join, then we clear the room for a princess party which I feel bad about because the poor owner isn't making any money on drinks. After we're done, I traipse off with Harper on my hip to find some of the AGO guys because they are supposed to be somewhere it the hotel. Before I know it, I am involved in a grand and highly illegal plot to blow up the building, but because I'm smart, I save the day--we effectively explode what needs to be exploded and I create a diversion by singing into this pile of metal coils which distracts the people that are out to get us and protects the ones we love. The next morning, I safely return Harper to Lara, borrow some clothes from her because I am somehow naked. Then like a true Shakespearean comedy, everyone gets married in the end.