I could have a woman who couldn't say no, one over which I would have total control. At the time I was dating Samantha Prescott, former model and an assistant editor at Vogue.
I must confess that I had fallen, she was lovely of course, but she also had an elegance and charm which completely won me over.
Yet I couldn't help feeling that this would be the night the idiot got his car stolen or his wife was rushed to hospital and that every cop in the state would be after that license.
I was at most twenty minutes from the layover when I could switch mine back, I hoped to stay lucky that long.
Still it paid to go to a little extra trouble and it also reduced the chances of some passer by spotting my home made tags.
I still felt nervous and unsure, copying a stranger's tags so that you don't have to cruising a neighborhood with out of state plates is smart thinking and pays off when the jobs over and the cops are looking for clues.
The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which are dangerous or illegal.I suppose every man who has ever been lead on by a woman harbors certain fantasies, any guy with a female boss, any guy stood up or embarrassed or humiliated.What I suppose made me different from "any guy" was that I had been provided with the means, both financially and practically to carry out those fantasies and make them real.About a month later one of my editors called and suggested that I did a blab piece on computer porn.The newspapers and television were in a feeding frenzy about girlie pics on bulletin boards and S&M on the internet.In some ways I was pleased, she was living up nicely to my expectations.