The First Time I Was Mistaken For A Hooker

The first time implies there were other times. There were, which is one of 10 reasons I probably should revisit therapy. My looks, makeup, and clothes don't scream hooker. At least not to me. Apparently others disagree.

I dated The Doctor for three years and was madly in love with him because he was kind of a genius, having invented a baby heart monitor among his many achievements. He raced Formula Atlantic cars in Lime Rock, Connecticut and Watkins Glen, NY and we were both enamored of the more powerful F-1 cars. So one year we flew from NY to California to catch the Long Beach Grand Prix.  The high-pitched whine those engines make when they streak in front of you raises your blood pressure and probably your cholesterol. It's very sexual. Not the cholesterol part.

The Doctor in his Formula Atlantic. The worst race I ever witnessed was when his car spun around 4 times on the track and came to a dead stop and he didn't move his head. Eventually he took off his helmet and raised a thumb's up. Later, other drivers told me he was a horrible driver and would probably die in his car. Fun guys.

Me being instructed in the pace car by The Doctor's race team:

The Grand Prix was spectacular and afterward we went to an auto show to see the new Lamborghini's, Ferrari's, and other cars I couldn't afford but he could. Everything was fine until The Doctor decided we should spend our second night in California at a friend's house. This friend of his turned out to be a very pretty girl named Dakota. She lived with her boyfriend so naturally this made The Doctor assume we should swap partners. SURE, WHO DOESN'T DO THAT WITH OUT-OF-TOWN GUESTS? He hadn't seen Dakota in many years and now that he was balding, and still short, I thought for sure she wouldn't be interested. I was wrong. He was rich and rich trumps bald and short. And her boyfriend was all in. I thought it was horrible that both he and my boyfriend would even think of lending their girlfriends like we were in a bookmobile and could be returned the next day. But as I aged, which I'm not by the way, I realized men are the real whores and are always looking for strange.

The Doctor and I got into a fight over the swapping. A big fight. A fight so huge that I called information to get the number of a local cab company and then sneaked out of the house with my purse and small overnight. I had the cab driver drop me at the Beverly Hills Hotel because it was the only hotel I'd heard of. I checked in after midnight. As the hotel clerk gave me my room key, a man came up behind me and also checked in.

I unpacked, turned on the TV, and raided the mini-bar. Mercifully I've blocked out how much I took from the mini-bar because, hello, the Beverly Hills Hotel. 

Sidebar: The next morning I called my sister Lindy, who lived in Santa Monica, and asked her to come stay with me. We ordered room service and the only thing I remember from our breakfast was that a glass of orange juice was $5.00. In 1981. I was young then and had credit cards that weren't maxed out. That's not going to last, Suzy. Stop drinking orange juice in California.

The room phone rang. No one knew where I was so I assumed it was the front desk. 

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Who's this?"

"I checked into the hotel after you."

"Oh yeah, I saw you."

"I thought you might want some company."

"What? How did you get this number?"

"I looked over your shoulder and saw your room number."

If you know anything about hotel check-ins, and having spent over 20 years on the road as a standup comic I do,  I can assure you that even the cheesiest hotel does not routinely let guests see other guests' room numbers. This is how serial killers get started and your grief stricken family ends up on Dateline NBC. I hung up on him and called the front desk.

"Did you give my room number to that asshole who checked in behind me?"

"Miss, please...I can assure you there are no people like that in this hotel."
"Well, some asshole just called me and said he checked in after me so who the hell was that?"
"I don't know miss, maybe a friend of yours?"
"I don't know any ASSHOLES." Of course this was a total lie because I was currently dating one. "I just got here and can assure you I did not give out this room number to anyone. So he probably followed me because you gave him my room number and OH MY GOD, do you think I'm a prostitute?"

"You only had a small bag...and checked in very late."

I hung up on him, too. I looked down at my clothes. Jeans and a t-shirt. You know, your basic prostitute-y outfit.

This Is One Of The Funniest Things I've Ever Written While Still Remaining Completely Obscure To Everyone But My Family

I'm a new contributor at humoroutcasts.com and even though they regularly reprint my tweets, this is the first long form piece they published because I made them.

It's about the first time I had a 3 way.

http://humoroutcasts.com/2012/were-goin-ridin-on-the-3-way-of-love/

Another Ridiculous Thing I Did For A Guy

Going through the two million things I own and have to pack has rocketed me back to some memories that make me groan. For example, the disappearance of Book Four in the Basic Reader series of children's books that belonged to my father's family.

It happened while I was living in NY and dating The Doctor. When we met I had just moved to NY from Paris and was on Food Stamps. He thought that was hilarious. The girl from Paris was on Food Stamps.

I kept the books on a table in my living room and one night he saw them and said he had them in his family too. They brought back so many memories for him. He was elated to see them again.

That cliche about what do you get someone who has everything really applied to The Doctor.

I mean, the guy had his own plane.

Sidebar: He once flew me back from New Orleans during a storm while I drank Jack Daniels straight from the bottle in the back of the plane. I was drinking the Jack not because I was afraid of the storm, I was eventually too shitfaced to be scared, but because I overheard him tell the copilot that not only was I a girlfriend BUT YOU SHOULD SEE THE PICTURE OF HIS OTHER GIRLFRIEND.

He also had a chauffeured stretch Mercedes and a 10 room apartment on Park Avenue. His shirts were all bespoke, his shoes and belts were always Gucci and he favored Armani.

So for his birthday I gave him Book Four.  I thought I'd come up with the perfect gift for him. And I was right. He loved it. Gushed over my thoughtfulness, my generosity, my creativity.

The Doctor and I went out for three years. After we broke up BECAUSE SOMEONE COULDN'T STOP CHEATING ON ME, we remained friends and a year or so later I asked him whether he still had Book Four.

"Book Four of what?"
"The books that were in your family, my family, you know, those children's books."
"Sorry, no idea what you're talking about."

That was a frequent theme in our relationship.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

The Doctor, the first boyfriend I had in NY, was on The Real Housewives of New York last night. While I Twittered with the East Coast one person remarked The Doctor wasn't good looking. So Connie, here's what he looked like when we first met. He's 18 years older than I am although I always say 20 because it makes me feel better. He has that Open Collar Chains Around The Neck thing going on and he's not even Italian.

Actually there was one boyfriend in front of him, Peter The Attorney. But it was doomed on the morning at his parent's house in Westhampton when Peter scratched his balls in front of his mother. Hand down the pants, scratching and jiggling as if The Holy Trinity had measles. Next! Peter and me a thousand years ago. I USED TO SMOKE!! And have Vidal Sassoon do my hair!!

All these *me* and *I* words that I have to conjugate correctly. Large groan on toast.

Back to The Doctor. There's nothing quite so infuriating as being in show business and spending enormous amounts of time trying to get back on TV and seeing your millionaire ex with his townhouse in Manhattan and his home in upstate New York appear on a TV show. Rude.

The Doctor was married when I met him. He and The Countess had an open marriage. Sometimes she and her boyfriend and The Doctor and I would double date. The Doctor and The Countess sat up front in their black Mercedes while her boyfriend and I sat in the back, sobbing and looking forward to a free meal.

The Doctor cheated on me. He had lots of girlfriends all over the U.S. and probably Canada. He also raced a Formula Atlantic and owned the car in the above picture. Women love a race car driver so never buy your man a $500,000 car.

Many people think sex addiction is just a phrase that's used as an excuse for bad behavior. And now some neurosurgeons believe the brain can tell whether or not you're predisposed to cheating. So not only does a person have to pass muster in the Car, Shoes and Penis Length department, now he'd better show up with an MRI. One clear of pale red blobs on either side of the temporal lobes.

The Doctor was not only a cheater but a control freak as well. It appears Tiger Woods is also and Jesse James?

The decision to let my wife end our marriage, and continue the adoption of Louis on her own..." James told People.

LET your wife? It's 2010, asshole, not 1959. Sandy, leave the kids and run for your life. Jesse will find another babysitter, I mean stepmother, and then those kids will be out of your life in any event. You are setting them up for a world of hurt by staying in their lives. My Dad had 4 wives, I know what I'm talking about.

Yesterday's Oprah with Rielle Hunter talking about John Edwards unearthed the worst kind of cheater. The cheater who falls in love. If a man is cheating for sex alone yes, it means there's something wrong in the marriage and if you believe in sex addiction, something wrong with the man. But when he falls in love? Just call your attorney and get on with your life.

So to all the men who dare to cheat on movie stars or have the nerve to appear on TV shows before their ex-girlfriend becomes a TV star, I award you the coveted, only not really, Bite Me Award.

End of chat.

It's Everybody Can Bite Me Friday!

As little as I believe in marriage, I was still shocked that Sandra Bullock's might be falling apart. But having been in relationships and worked around men my entire adult life I'm not really as shocked as I pretend. I think women are just incredibly naive about what makes men tick. To quote my friend Joy Behar, "Never marry them, they just take you for granted."

Everyone should walk away from a cheater. When you forgive a cheater you've basically said, "Here's the key to room 1703 at the Motel 6. Please don't get caught this time." And the cheater will oblige. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but they will eventually cheat again because something is wrong in the marriage. To err is human; to forgive is bullshit.

I've been cheated on before.

I've also cheated.

The one and only time I cheated was with The Doctor, a man who was sleeping with half of New York City, so I felt I was *owed.* When I told him I was going to Hong Kong with another man he got dressed in the middle of the night and said he couldn't look at me anymore, didn't want me to touch him and that he had to go home. To his wife.

In my defense, and his too sort of, he and his wife had an open marriage and I was in my 20's and he was rich and powerful and yes I had Daddy issues. I was a really bad Lifetime movie.

Here's a tip ladies, never withhold sex as a weapon. It doesn't work. I know too many men who just went out and got it elsewhere. I work in a male dominated field. I've seen the happiest of married men blithely cheat because they were out of town and some waitress was more than happy to oblige. And? Blow jobs aren't sex!

If I still smoked I would light up right about now.

Sandra Bullock, Halle Berry, Uma Thurman, Reese Witherspoon, all these beautiful women have been cheated on and have walked away, at least I hope Bullock walks away. They are brave women. It takes courage to walk away. It also takes money. But mainly courage.

So to you Jesse James, you who let Sandra get up in front of millions and millions of people world wide and say she was finally happy and doing her best work ever because YOU HAD HER BACK, you my friend, are an asshole. And you're not my friend.