Later that afternoon I decided to indulge myself in a bubble bath. I lay
there thinking : do all women have a go-to guy?
"Of course Carrie, you have to have a decent man to go to that won't expect a commitment. That way you don't go crazy and you can still have sex with other men and not feel guilty." Samantha babbled on. We'd been on the phone for an hour and still I had drawn no conclusions.
"I'm not sure I know what you're trying to say." I answered.
"Take it from me, EVERYONE has got one. If you don't believe ask Miranda."
I didn't need to ask Miranda, when Samantha told me something about the sex scene in New York I believed her. Besides, Miranda was busy lately and I didn't want to disturb her. She hadn't been out to lunch with the girls since she and Steve broke up.
"She obviously doesn't have a go-to guy." Samantha quipped at lunch the next day.
"Does Charlotte?" I asked and wished I hadn't. Of course she did, she could have her ex-husband Trey anytime. she just had to call. Samantha ignored the question and I was thankful.
"So who's your go-to guy?" I demanded separating the peas from the carrots on my plate as if it was crucial to my existence.
"Carrie darling," she began. "I have many." And that ended that.
I began to think from then on about who my go-to guy was. I didn't want it to be Bruce but I don't think I had a choice. After hours of wracking my brain I ended up at Uptown, a supposed new hot club, where I was determined to find a man that I would make my go-to guy. I had on the newest outfit I could find in my closet and a pair of strappy sandals from Dolce and Gabanna I hadn't wore for 2 years. There he was at the bar with wavy dark hair. He was drinking scotch neat and flirting with the pretty blonde bartender.
"Mind if I sit here?" I made eye contact. He smiled.
"No by all means. Where you from?"
"Around." I said.
"What's your name?"
"Carrie, Carrie Bradshaw." I giggled a little and then realized I looked like a moron, "And you are."
"Sam, Sam Riley. I'm visiting here from Brooklyn. You write an article, right?"
I sat up, "You read it?"
"Oh no, my girlfriend does." He said, "Can I buy you a drink?"
I was iffy on the question but thought to myself that his girlfriend wasn't there and I might as well, "Sure. Cosmopolitan."
After hours of conversation we ended up at my apartment door he kissed my cheek, "I had a really great time tonight."
"Me too. I hope you get back to Brooklyn safe." He kissed me again, "Want to come in??" Now I know it wasn't right, and I know that I shouldn't have but Sam and I had the best damn sex I had had since Big and he stayed at my apartment until the sun rose the next morning.
"Here's my number, Carrie, call me sometime. we should get together."
"Next time you're in Manhattan." I smiled, he kissed me and walked out of sight.
Sam Riley, the sexy lawyer from Brooklyn was my go-to guy. That was that.
"Of course Carrie, you have to have a decent man to go to that won't expect a commitment. That way you don't go crazy and you can still have sex with other men and not feel guilty." Samantha babbled on. We'd been on the phone for an hour and still I had drawn no conclusions.
"I'm not sure I know what you're trying to say." I answered.
"Take it from me, EVERYONE has got one. If you don't believe ask Miranda."
I didn't need to ask Miranda, when Samantha told me something about the sex scene in New York I believed her. Besides, Miranda was busy lately and I didn't want to disturb her. She hadn't been out to lunch with the girls since she and Steve broke up.
"She obviously doesn't have a go-to guy." Samantha quipped at lunch the next day.
"Does Charlotte?" I asked and wished I hadn't. Of course she did, she could have her ex-husband Trey anytime. she just had to call. Samantha ignored the question and I was thankful.
"So who's your go-to guy?" I demanded separating the peas from the carrots on my plate as if it was crucial to my existence.
"Carrie darling," she began. "I have many." And that ended that.
I began to think from then on about who my go-to guy was. I didn't want it to be Bruce but I don't think I had a choice. After hours of wracking my brain I ended up at Uptown, a supposed new hot club, where I was determined to find a man that I would make my go-to guy. I had on the newest outfit I could find in my closet and a pair of strappy sandals from Dolce and Gabanna I hadn't wore for 2 years. There he was at the bar with wavy dark hair. He was drinking scotch neat and flirting with the pretty blonde bartender.
"Mind if I sit here?" I made eye contact. He smiled.
"No by all means. Where you from?"
"Around." I said.
"What's your name?"
"Carrie, Carrie Bradshaw." I giggled a little and then realized I looked like a moron, "And you are."
"Sam, Sam Riley. I'm visiting here from Brooklyn. You write an article, right?"
I sat up, "You read it?"
"Oh no, my girlfriend does." He said, "Can I buy you a drink?"
I was iffy on the question but thought to myself that his girlfriend wasn't there and I might as well, "Sure. Cosmopolitan."
After hours of conversation we ended up at my apartment door he kissed my cheek, "I had a really great time tonight."
"Me too. I hope you get back to Brooklyn safe." He kissed me again, "Want to come in??" Now I know it wasn't right, and I know that I shouldn't have but Sam and I had the best damn sex I had had since Big and he stayed at my apartment until the sun rose the next morning.
"Here's my number, Carrie, call me sometime. we should get together."
"Next time you're in Manhattan." I smiled, he kissed me and walked out of sight.
Sam Riley, the sexy lawyer from Brooklyn was my go-to guy. That was that.