Brunch with a Porn Star…

On the way to my writer’s space, Labour Day morning, I got a text from my friend, Anya - “Too cold to swim, let’s do brunch at 1pm.”

She had a pool on the roof of her apartment building, that cost $30 to enter, even for five minutes. Pools are so rare in Manhattan. A recent article in the New York Times said there is close to 100 pools in total, for an area that services 2.9 million people during the day, and houses 1.6 million at night. (Crazy right? Considering every second house in Brisbane has a pool.)

I was counting on this weather day, to give me some much needed time for job hunting online. But job hunting sux-ass, so I said yes to brunch.

On the way, I scoffed the egg sandwich that I’d made at 1am, the night before. I figured I could just order coffee, and save a few dollars to ease my guilt.

Dressed in denim shorts, sandals and a loose, slinky T-shirt from Urban Outfitters, I was casual Sunday meh.

The brunch place was a little swanky, and Anya sat at the bar drinking OJ from a wine glass. Anya is a gorgeous girl, my age, from Poland, and is a big TV producer there. But in NY, she is nobody, and is humbly starting again from scratch. Her thick Polish accent probably isn’t helping, but her drive is pretty incredible.

“I have a uni friend coming, she’s a real sweet heart.” She said, as I took a seat. “Great,” I said, expecting some quiet little darling thing.

A voluptious blond, in an off the shoulder leopard-print-dress, and heels strode up to us. She was gorgeous. Dripping with designer gold jewellery and looking very LA.

We sat down, and she opened the menu. “Oh.. I’m just going to barf anything on here anyway!” she smiled, then said - “Sorry, I’m a barffer! I know it’s a disorder, but only if you can’t admit you have it! ah ha ha!”

We laughed, and so did the people at the table next to us.

“I also love to drink, and do a shit load of drugs for fun!” she continued. I smiled and nodded again. She was shocking me, and I was loving it. A sweet heart?

And then another test. She yelled “I don’t know if Anya told you, but I’m an escort! I always tell everyone straight away, because I’m not ashamed of it.”

‘Ahh - no she didn’t tell me’ I said… and awesome! This was going to be a fun brunch. I ditched my idea of drinking coffee, and ordered a round of Bloody Maries. Woot!

It was a good decision, because what followed is the time I will always remember as:

The day I had brunch with a Porn Star, saw William De Foe, got asked out by a model/banker, and went clubbing in the Meatpackers District - in shorts and a T-shirt.

TBC...