One of the men asked if I was engaged. I said no, embarrassed because I thought he was hitting on me. But he said that this was the place to find a rich husband. He introduced me Alex and Rupert, two members of the Horse Guard, the branch of the British military that protected the royal family.
They invited me to go to a club with them and some of their friends. I thought they meant one of London's famous clubs, like Ministry of Sound. Instead they took me to a private, members-only club that cost thousands of pounds a year to join. When I got there, Rupert handed me another drink, and another, and another.
The mix of wine and vodka and lack of food was getting to me. I was looser and more vibrant than I had been all night. I knew how out of place I was with all of these rich, high-society Londoners. But with the liquid courage in my veins, I was charming them all. At the end of the night, I hopped on the tube back to Tottenham Court Road.
As I stumbled drunkenly down the street back to my flat, a man approached me. He asked if he could take a picture of my new, sky blue high heels. He explained that he had a foot fetish, and he really liked my shoes. I told vehemently told him that if he came any closer, I would rip his balls off. I'm usually not very intimidating, but thanks to the alcohol, I had "perfected being fearless" -http://theriverislife.blogspot.com/.
