A millionaire fell in love with me.
Yes, ladies, I know, what you’re thinking: “Finally! A story with a happy ending.” Actually, not exactly.
It was a millionaire, but unfortunately, he was a budget millionaire. He wanted me to be his girlfriend for free. No gifts. No apartment. No jewelry. Not even a suspiciously expensive handbag. Just pure love. Apparently, his love language was “financial minimalism.”
Then he invited me to get on his private jet and fly with him to his country. I didn’t even have a visa. But honestly, instead of viza, my biggest concern was: “If I get on this plane, am I flying into a love story or into an unpaid internship?” Because I had a feeling, that six months later, when he got bored, I’d be standing at the airport, holding my emotional baggage, while he explained: “Unfortunately, our relationship is no longer working.” And I’d be like: “Okay. And where’s my apartment?”
“Apartment?”
“Yes. The one I’m supposed to magically manifest from all this love.”
So he kept insisting: “I don’t want this to be about money. I want you to be with me because you love me.”
I thought about it and met him halfway, saying: “Perfect. Buy me an apartment as a gift. Then you can be absolutely certain, I’m not with you for the money.”
Silence.
Suddenly, the millionaire discovered a very important spiritual principle: True love means knowing, when to disappear. And disappear he did. Forever.
So I learned something that day. He wasn’t actually looking for a woman, who loved him. He was looking for an escort, who would forget, that she was an escort at the moment, when he said the word “millionaire.”
Unfortunately for him, I had already read the terms and conditions. Millionaire status does not automatically include a free girlfriend.