The fancy photographer tells me this story the other night:

"I was on the subway, heading to meet a potential client, with my portfolio on my lap. This was a few years back, when I was just past starting out but still not where I am today."

He pauses, slightly tilts his head toward his glorious apartment, making sure I notice it (how could I not?) and know he has earned it.

"I'm sitting next to this woman and I notice she's totally beautiful, Colombian, dark hair, dark eyes, like, breathaking, and you know, I've known a lot of beautiful women in my life."

Chest puffed out. I believe him. In fact, I believe he has only known beautiful women in his life.

" Anyway I notice she's looking at an ad on the wall for someone to take head shots. She pulled out a notebook and wrote it down. I say to her, 'You might not want to call that guy. He might scam you.'

She gives me this look like she's on fire, says, 'Well how would you know?' She was so fierce, it was hot, I'm telling you.

So I open my portfolio and hand it to her. She flips through the pages and says, 'Oh, oh, ohhhh.' Like, she gets it, knows that I know what I'm talking about.

So I give her my card - I never do anything like that - and I tell her that if she calls me, I can give her names of people she should call. I'm not hitting on her, beause I notice she has a wedding ring on, but I did feel some sort of spark with her at that moment. It was very strange."

He pauses, looks over his shoulder to see where his fiancee is before he finishes the story. She's across the room, laughing, trying to call someone a cab home.

"I never hear from her. Four months later, the woman gets divorced. Walks out of court, picks up the phone, calls me. I had thought about her every day until the day she called me, I swear to god.

We went out for five months. She was fucking hot, the sex was amazing. I still talk to her sometimes, she's a sweet girl. But crazy though. Crazy.

You know who she looked like? A Colombian Audrey Hepburn."

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