Bored + I am a Huge Douchebag Now

I'm really bored right now. Pretty lethargic. This weekend was pretty nuts. My friends back from my hometown came up for the weekend, and my college friends came to the city to hang out. Friday night, went to 230 Fifth and got pretty hammered, before heading down to some overrated mexican cuisine place that justifies its price by having some fancy pink sign outside.

Last night, I affirmed the fact that NY girls love being pampered and feel that they're "special". I'm not going to lie, I love being pampered and I admit it, but girls typically go along the lines of "oh, I'm not like that." Last night was an example of clear utter bullshit of such answer - of course, conditioned upon the fact that these girls were probably superficial to begin with.

I went to a "prime" club last night since one of my friends is the stereotypical "models + bottles banker". In fact, he goes so much that he just calls one of the promoters to come get him while we're waiting outside, and we walk straight into the "VIP" section drinking on bottles provided by the club - i.e. cost efficient from a consumer's perspective.

Now let me say something - it's a great feeling to get pampered. I like it. I'm not going to lie.

Anyways, after having about 3 bottles, I went to the outskirts of the section and "shopped" through the women around. By the way, girls in NY are too gorgeous in comparison to any American cities. After losing any remote inhibitions I had, I tried to invite girls up to our section to join us in our festivity. The conversation went somewhere along the lines of this, all in yelling tone to override the fucking loud music of course.

Me: hey, how're you ladies doing tonight?

Girls: good.

Me: my name is X... (puts hand out)

Girls: my name is X.. (shakes hand)

Me: ok, well anyways, I'm wondering if you guys wanted some drinks with me and a couple of friends.

The representative of the girls ("Rep"): well that depends, where are you sitting?

Me: (points to the section where we're sitting)

Rep: (looks to the girls, nods head). Sure why not?

The night went on awesome. I then realized my love for superficial easy skanks at this point. They're gorgeous and easy. They want to have fun. Not once did we discuss what we do. We drank. We danced (and other stuff). We had fun.

I've come to realize that the NY culture has consumed me. I walk by everyday around amazing cars, amazing highrise apartments, and the wealth. I've come to accept that $ does buy happiness. I've come to learn that true love perhaps doesn't exist - true love is a fictionally created concept, but in reality, true love occurs because the girl falls in love with the lifestyle that the husband can afford to her.

It's pretty funny because I could've sworn to myself that I would never become a guy like this, and here I am, admitting this entire fact. I wonder if my old self will every resurrect again.

EDIT: i do have serious issues lately. i don't know where it's originating from. Friend is giving me a serious guilt trip... and I'm glad that I can confide to him about this issue I have.... I think i need to get the fuck out of NY for a bit.