Yes, the post has been taken down. Hot on the heels of my La Petite Anglaise article, I’ve been hesitant to post things that risk offending others and more importantly, risk my professional career.

The fact is, what I was referring to as a “momentary lapse in judgement” in the previous post, I really did mean momentary. Nothing major happened.

I mean it.

But it’s the case that I’ve received a whole host of e-mails regarding the late-night entry, ranging from the curiously fascinated to the downright insulted. It really is my fault, and I left too much to the imagination in writing that post.

The other night was an opportunity to have fun and enjoy myself. But instead, I found myself babysitting drunk people. Making sure intoxicated people had made it safe and sound into their hotel rooms, helping girls down flights of stairs when they were a little too wobbly to walk, and offering napkins to those who were a little too cavalier with their goblets.

And repeating to one very attractive, very drunk, and very beguiling lady that I was simply “not that kinda guy.”

But how I wish I was.

And other than the opportunities to dance with a few pretty girls, there was little rewarding about the whole kerfuffle. Except maybe one moment.

After I had gone down several floors to make sure one of my friends had made it into his hotel room safe and sound, his girlfriend ran out of the room and caught me before I entered the elevator.

“I just want to thank you for doing that,” she said sencerely.

I simply nodded.

“It’s hard to find guys like you.”

“It’s what I do,” I said before entering the lift.

Later in the evening, I was referred to by another girl as, “that hot guy who acts like a total gentleman”. It was a nice compliment, sure, but ultimately a glorified version of the truth. What she failed to mention was that guys like me are inconsequential in every way that counts.

The truth is I’m tired of being a walking, talking cliché. A posterboy for this so-called Gentleman’s Club.

Given my past history with women (or lack thereof), I think I deserve to have fun at least once every few years.

So take my advice, folks. Go out, get drunk, have fun, feel free to make out with strangers who think you’re the best thing to come along since prepackaged meats and sliced bread.

Otherwise, you’re going to realize one day that all you have are your goddamn ethics.