Seeking Arrangement

Seldom a day goes by that I don’t hear about some new sex craze. 

It’s like being a beauty editor but instead of concealer on my desk it’s anal relaxant spay, usually 9 am on a Monday.

Cute packaging tick, all natural ingredients tick, tick. However in my biz long lasting isn’t always a good thing.

Just this morning we received a scented massage candle with an invite for a 'girls night in' swingers party.

Probably not the type of event you’d invite your actual girlfriends too. Just saying.

However there is a new sexual fad gaining momentum, pretty girls and rich men meet seekingarragement.com. It's the underground dating website the Maple HQ girls have been raving about. How else do you fund your expensive lingerie addiction?

Google it and you’ll quickly find out that there are ten sugar babies to one sugar daddy. Maybe a little excessive? You ain’t seen nothing yet.

SUGAR BABY

So you’re a female in your 20’s and you consider yourself more hot than not. You’re well spoken or more preferably you have assets that speak for themselves. Answer a few questions, upload a cute photo and you can subsidise your wage for ‘bespoke services'. 

SUGAR DADDY

If you’re wealthy you’re it. It doesn’t matter if you have no ears and four nipples if you’ve got cash to splash you’re the most eligible bachelor on the internet. 

So one Thursday night after a couple of glasses of wine I decided to sign up to seekingarragment.com not as the wanton twenty something girl I am, but as a mysterious uber rich man. 

With active users like 'Gifted' and 'CEO' I decided to go with something more traditional like 'Johnny Castle' (Seeking arrangement advises not to use your real name).

You need to sign up using a real email address and as I couldn't bare to put my personal or work address I went with the next best thing, my high school address: xo_dancergirl_xo. Johnny embraces his feminine side okay. Now set your net worth. As $100 million plus sounded a little too ambitious I settled for $5 million. 

After you enter your location (Point Piper Sydney) and a photo (Pinterest search: executive man) then you have access to 1879 Sugar Babies and their profile photos. A virtual portfolio of Sydney’s sexiest undercover arm candy at your fingertips.

My boy Johnny received 35 views and 11 messages in the first day, however as I settled in to read them an access denied window flashed up on my screen. After a few minutes of poking and prodding I found that messages couldn't be viewed without paying the monthly subscription fee. Damn!

If you wanna play you've got to pay Johnny. 

THE VERDICT

I've met smart, beautiful girls who have had unknown Sugar Daddies deposit money directly into their accounts for a strip tease, a peep show and even a long chat. 

However with every underground sex craze there is always a level of risk involved. A Sugar Baby I know went on a shopping spree with her Sugar Daddy's credit card details only to have her exuberant transaction rejected on the spot. Accidental insufficient funds? Or just shady from the start.

The appeal for women is that it’s not full blown prostitution, at least that’s what you tell yourself as you bend over in front of a web cam to showcase your $400 lingerie set that your last Sugar Daddy funded. 

You know me, I'm no prude (anal relaxant spray) however I'm a firm believer that if it seems too good to be true it probably is.

Remember, for every ten Sugar Babies there's one Johnny Castle account being run by a lonely perverted twenty-something year old girl.

If you want to try your luck, check it out for yourself: https://www.seekingarrangement.com 

How to Make a Million Dollars with Mr PS

Mr P.S and I rarely talk about money. It's one of those dating no-no's much like ex's and involuntary flatulence. 

Last week on the way to dinner we passed one of his current projects, an old warehouse space in Alexandria that he was transforming into several studio apartments.

"How do you do that?" I asked impulsively. You see I couldn't even begin to fathom how someone could buy anything in Sydney, especially with the average house price now close to one million. 

He didn't really give me a straight answer.

"You said you wanted to make a million dollars, how are you going to do that?” he asked turning it back onto me. 

I never specifically said I wanted to make a lot of money, I just mentioned that it would be nice not to live in share accommodation for the rest of my single life. 

"I'll sell my poems on the street" I said jokingly.

"Come to this property seminar on the weekend with me." 

"It's a two day intensive training course in the city” he continued. 

"Over the weekend!" I gasped. I work close to 55 hours and he's suggesting I give up my only freedom to sit in a seminar I have no idea about.

"I don't know about that” I said. Visualising not having a weekend made me instantly regret starting this conversation. 

“How about this" he said pulling up to Fratelli Fresh (now this is a place I could spend my entire weekend).

"You come to this course with me and at the end I'll take you to dinner at Cafe Sydney."

"I'm in!” I said without any further hesitation.

And just like that Mr P.S had bought my freedom for the weekend. An investment that I wasn’t sure would wield a great return for either of us, at least not until I was sitting on the terrace of Cafe Sydney quaffing a glass of bubbly. 

Saturday 7 am

Hauling my ass out of bed before 9 am on a Saturday felt wildly unnecessary. Not to mention walking through the deserted streets of Sydney CBD, I didn't feel like id woken up early, I felt like I had just fallen out of Frankie's. 

We took a seat in the second row, the room full of thirty something year old business people. I was well and truly out of my comfort zone. My anxiety peeked as a middle aged man sat beside me with his property portfolio and shiny cuff links.  

"There are a lot of American people here" I whispered to Mr P.S who was looking handsome as ever with his tasselled brown locks.

"Yes that's because it's about the US market" he said pointing to a booklet in front of me 'Success in US Real Estate'.

Are you fucking kidding me mate. What good is this to me?

The main speaker starts addressing the class and I want to sign my name and get the hell out of there. 

"Now raise your hand if you've read Who Moved My Cheese?" he asks. 

Cheese. The first question at this fancy rich people seminar is about cheese. Mr P.S and several others raise their hands.

I like cheese...

For the next fifteen minutes we proceeded to watch a cartoon about two little men and two little mice on the hunt for you guessed it, cheese. It doesn't take me long to understand the underlying message. To different people cheese means different things, in this course cheese signifies success and money. The way in which people find it, spend it and react when it's taken away from them. To fully understand it you can watch the video here.

“You see to make millions of dollars you can't be afraid of money Paigey.” Mr P.S said pouring himself a cup of black coffee as I tucked two cookies behind a cup of tea. 

“You also shouldn't work for it like a slave, the best thing to do is to learn how to make money work for you.”

Money work for me? How bizarre. To me that was a notion reserved for bankers, stock brokers and other rich kids with trust funds. Not twenty something year old girls who barely passed 'special' maths in high school. 

“So you’re just suggesting I sit back and prostitute my pennies?” I said smugly.

“It’s all about working smarter not harder baby.” 

I was a little (a lot) turned on by his attitude towards money, the word by this time didn't seem so dirty.  Many of the men I had dated before him were afraid of it. Afraid of paying their rent or the rego on their car and they were riddled with fear every time the waiter delivered the bill at a nice restaurant.  

Mr. P.S not only thought strategically about his money but had the audacity to take charge of it.
He was fearless unlike many people around me who choose to stay in the same job year after year because they’re afraid their familiar cheese would be taken away. 

After lunch on the second day of the seminar he disappeared for a little bit then finally came and sat down beside me.

"How do you feel about the time you invested this weekend?" He said cooly.

By this time I had learnt about wholesaling, loans, entering deals, closing deals and even how to eliminate additional taxes and charges on my credit card (I don't have a credit card but one day I might).

"I feel like I've gained a new perspective" I said truthfully.

"Well thank you for keeping me company" he said as he slid a small card in front of me.

"I have a meeting with one of these guys so why don't you head to the Four Seasons and get ready for dinner?"

THE FOUR SEASONS?! No worries!

I freshened up in the gorgeous Harbour View Suite and then made my way to Café Sydney to meet Mr P.S. 

While I waited for him to arrive I looked around and saw plenty of men in expensive suits, women drenched in designer labels and seemingly retired couples who were probably kicking back, enjoying their dinner as their money worked for them.   

It then occurred to me, Is money a language that all these people speak fluently? Were they taught about investments as children while I was out chasing the boy next door?

One day I would like to make enough money to bring my whole family here and have us all order the dreamy duck confit. 

Unfortunately it’s not a place you can dine often on a regular wage. 

After we finished our delicious mains, the waiter came and asked us if we would like dessert. We decided to steer clear of the 'familiar cheese' platter and head back to the hotel for a decadent spread. 

Mr P.S popped open a bottle of champagne and I gorged on truffles and choc pops. 

“Teach me how to make a million dollars” I said filling a plate up with mini cakes. I felt like a slightly fatter Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.

“Are you ready to take some risks?” He said handing me a glass of champagne.

I looked at the man in front of me that I felt was certainly out of my league. He was smart, successful  sexy and striking. Risks, ha! Investing this much time with him is one of the biggest risks I have ever made. 

“Your homework for tomorrow is to read Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki but your homework for tonight is something else entirely!” 

The next morning Mr PS left for work and I reflected on my weekend over a cup of coffee.

He invited me to the seminar not because he wanted me to buy a US property but to get me to start thinking about money differently. Yes it took a bribe to get me there because I was foolish enough to think that investing my time and money wisely was something that didn't concern me. 

Well if you are a girl or guy in your early twenties. Let this be known, I was wrong. It does concern us! Especially if you plan on being more than just an employee for the rest of you life. 

Unfortunately learning to make a million dollars isn’t as straight forward as attending that seminar, reading a book or understanding this post. However, the first step to being rich is thinking rich and I don’t mean thinking that you can always afford that luxe pair of shoes!

If you can adopt a positive attitude towards money early you’re well on your way to long term financial success in your thirties and beyond.

At least that's what my new book, Rich Dad Poor Dad tells me.

Moral of the story? Allow a handsome man to expand your mind...you've got nothing to lose and millions of dollars to gain.

READ: Rich Dad Poor Dad By RK

WATCH: Who Moved my Cheese?

Sunday Brunch at Jonah's

Jonah's is undoubtedly one of my favourite places in the world. Every time I walk through the doors of this Palm Beach paradise I feel like I magically transform from a pauper into princess. 

I have written about Jonah's world class views of Whale Beach many times before on HOB but today it’s all about the food. The best bit is that you can indulge in a three course brunch at Jonah's award winning restaurant for just $50. That's cheaper and far more luxurious than your usual Sunday plans (coffee and a bikini wax). 

Brunch at Jonahs

Before we continue you must know that a reservation is essential for breakfast, lunch and dinner. However, If you don't have a booking not all is lost, you can still experience the finer things on the terrace, but that’s another story Jonah’s Terrace Blog Post.

Now here’s the catch for my more central Sydneysiders, Jonah’s is located approximately 60 minutes from Sydney CBD, so you’ll need a magic carpet or a boy with a car to get you there.

For all logical reasons I chose the latter. 

Dressed in our Sunday best with a coffee in hand we began the journey from Surry Hills to Palm Beach in the wee hours of the morning.

We left so early that we were the first to arrive which meant we got to pick the best table in the house. Can you see the ocean from here?

As we took our seats in front of the hideous view, French-style mini croissants were served with house made jam for us to nibble on while we decided what we would like for our first and second courses. 

For the first course we ordered the poached rhubarb bircher muesli with apple compote and the warm Belgian waffles with lychees, ricotta and toasted pecans. 

All of the dishes I’ve ever had at Jonah's have been presented spectacularly. The bircher was lovely however...

I had my heart set on the waffles which were sweet, toasty and deliciously comforting on a cool Sunday morning.

The tiny flowers are edible too!

Once we polished off the first breakfast there was only enough time for half of a face selfie before the second course arrived in front of us.

I was instantly smitten by the truffle scrambled eggs served on a heavenly slice of fluffy brioche. 

And just when I thought I couldn't eat anymore, I was offered a bite of his poached eggs and sweetcorn fritter with the crispiest bacon, cherry tomatoes, crushed avo and bronze fennel. 

A bite turned into a several spoonfuls and suddenly I was being rolled outside to the terrace for some fresh air.

HOB Tip: If you’ve already had a coffee on the journey here save the hot beverage included in the package until last and order a hot chocolate to have on the terrace. Snuggle up to your love under a complimentary Morgan & Finch blanket while taking in the views. It’s pure ecstasy. 

Included in the $50 Winter Breakfast Package you get:

1. A croissant with French butter and jams to start.
2. A first course of whatever you desire.
3. A second course (something hot).
4. A coffee to have now or a tea or hot chocolate to have on the terrace later. 
5. And a freshly squeezed juice to sip during your meals. 

WARNING: Do not eat the night before if you expect to get through this breakfast. It's huge!

Since you’ve come all the way to Palm Beach why not make a day of it?

Cruise through the streets with the top down, your sunglasses on and the wind in your hair. Allow yourself to surrender to a serious case of property envy. Ocean front mansion with infinity pool – fabulous darling. 

Want to spoil someone very special? You can stay at Jonah's for lunch, dinner and even a night in one of their eleven luxury Ocean Retreat Rooms.

On one condition: You take me with you!

www.jonahs.com.au 

The Man(VA)gina

I was having dinner with a girlfriend at Besser, a new Italian bar on Crown St, last Thursday night when we got talking about the US sanctions on Russia.

Just kidding…we were talking about men, the most exciting thing on the menu after 8pm. 

My friend, Miss A is a very attractive boss lady in her late twenties. She’s well presented, well spoken and currently taking a break from dating. 

“I feel like the roles are reversed and we have to win them (men) over now” Miss A said topping up our glasses.

She continued to tell me about this guy she'd been trying to win over with her cute outfits, witty banter and her cool, calm exterior. Miss A said that she’d gone out of her way to make sure they ate at places he liked and would always offer to pay because she hated the awkwardness of splitting the bill down to the exact penny. 

When she showed me a picture of this Casanova I was so shocked I nearly fell off my chair. He was a 6 considerably and she was a 10 and I’m not just saying that because she’s my friend.

After four weeks and no bites, just meaningless texts she decided to end the ‘relationship’ and bite back at the modern man.

“I feel like I have to wine and dine them…men have vaginas” she said. 

Wherefore art thou balls man? 

I’m talking about opening doors, making sure she gets home safely and if you’re not feeling the vibe being man enough to say “hey, this isn’t working”.

Miss A is not alone, I have also started to notice a total lack of chivalry in the city. 

CASE A:

“Hey baby you’ll be lucky if you get some of this D” a twenty something dude yelled at my friend in a club recently. She asked for a lighter, not your D all up in her V you big dildo. 

CASE B

Once at the end of a date a guy threw me a cab voucher then Facebook messaged me the next day to ask why I seemed upset and wouldn’t reply to his texts. 

I wanted to graffiti his public page with the dick pics he had sent me, instead I kindly explained to him why I was unhappy that he didn’t at least walk me to the cab rank, he retorted by saying I should be grateful that he offered to finance my journey home. 

FACT: I didn't need your shitty voucher, I ordered my own Uber black that knew exactly where to take me. Far, far away from you buster!

Rise of the Resting Bitch Face

"Maybe they’re just intimidated" the graphic designer at work said to me when I brought the issue up over our morning coffee. 

Maybe he’s got a point. Women are now more powerful then ever. We have great jobs, nice apartments and a drawer full of S&M gear.  Leather whip and cuffs are the bedroom accessory of the 21st century.

But do men really think that we’d laugh in the face of their door opening tenderness? 

The only solution…

Is to date the kind of man who knows that behind your Resting Bitch Face isn’t a world of bitter dissatisfaction but a lady just waiting to be wooed.

Date men who aren’t intimidated by the modern woman and are happy to do as much wooing as you. 

If he picks up the bill for dinner, then you take him to Messina and pay for dessert. If he doesn’t like ice cream then there’s always your riding crop waiting to be served.

Take it, *whoosh* or leave it, Sir.