On the eve of moving to Paris,
I spontaneously decided to buy a nice black dress. It was admittedly quite expensive, but I reckon that I have more than made up for its cost in free drinks and interesting stories.
One such story happened this summer. My Canadian friend Jennifer was visiting from Vancouver and we decided to meet up for a drink
(AKA seven). With her, she brought her colleague Jorge. A tall, dark, Latino from Venezuela, I admittedly didn’t think anything of him right away. I’d heard that he was super popular in their office, really intelligent, etc etc, but honestly didn’t care. As long as he kept buying my Bombay gin and tonics, he would also be my favorite.
I don’t know when, but at some point in the night, the chemistry between Jorge and I became intensely magnetic. We debated everything from the finer points of evolution, the meaning of Descartes, or the importance of tannins in wine. As a thirty-eight-year-old professional with a P.h.D., he was admittedly, very cocky. But also really handsome and kind of charming. And while he was sixteen years my senior, I had no issue calling him out on his more bullshit opinions.
I also honestly wanted to beat my friend’s record of sleeping with a thirty-five-year-old.
So I did. In one of the stranger moments of my life, we danced to ABBA’s Does Your Mother Know (completely unaware of the irony) and went together to his hotel. I woke up still drunk, grabbed a croissant from the lobby, and headed off back home.
Per usual with one night stands, I didn’t think much of him after that. That was, until several weeks later when my (later) boyfriend was asking if I knew anybody in the electrical engineering field. Whilst Jennifer was not an engineer herself, I knew she worked for an engineering company. So I sent her a message asking if she knew anybody.
Jennifer (12:04): "Hmmm... No sorry, don't know anybody.. Did you ask Jorge?" Me (12:05): "No, I don't have his number." Jennifer (12:05): "Ok, I'm just gonna give you his personal one. Not a lot of people have it so don't give it to anybody else." Me (12:07): "Wait, why do you have it?" Jennifer (12:10): "Oh, he's my boss" Me (12:10): "..... what" Jennifer (12:12): "Yeah why?" Me (12:12): "........................."*
But this story, my friend, is not just about how I accidentally slept with my friend’s boss. Because like the good American capitalist I am, I am always ready to network. So I did text him later. Starting heavy on the shmoozing, I wrote
Me (15:02): "Hey Jorge! This is Alexandra from Paris! Was really niceto meet you the other week (Sorry for my delay in messaging; just got your number). Let me know if you're in Paris some other time!" Jorge (17:13): "Hey! Good to hear from you. Tried to get your number from Jennifer but I lost it. I just got back to Vancouver so I'm dead. How are you?" Me (17:31): "I'm okay! Just working today. Haha, you must be so tired. Do you live alone at least?" Jorge (18:40): "Nope, I live with my partner. But they were away for the weekend."
“PARTNER?” I thought, slightly panicking. Did I just sleep with a married man?? That can’t be. He wasn’t wearing a ring and Jennifer said he was single. “So maybe his English is just bad??? I mean it is his third language??”
I thought to myself, knowing perfectly well that he had flawless English.
Me (20:38): “Partner? Like your wife? 🙃" Jorge (0:18): "For all practical purposes, yes..." Me (15:19): "What do you mean practical purposes??" Me (15:19): "Hahah" Me (15:19): "Can I just say tho" Me (15:19):" That if you are married" Me (15:20): "Or whatever" Me (15:20): "That you are amazing in bed." Me (15:20): "I mean you were prior to me gaining this knowledge but now it has a different context." Jorge (16:O0): "Hi Alex. I'm sorry I wasn't more forthcoming. I am indeed in a long term stable relationship with a woman whom I love very much. So yes, I am married."
So yes, my friends, that was the story of how I accidentally slept with my friends boss who was married.
Please excuse me while I go drink a whole bottle of wine to forget about this experience.
*Jennifer would only find out about me and Jorge’s antics about a week later in a Parisian restaurant. Seemingly unable to cope with the news, we downed a bottle of red wine together and she drunkenly told our waitress about the story.