Pampered By My Ex Husband Billionaire Friend
Okay, okay, settle in, grab a latte (or a margarita, no judgment!), because you are *not* going to believe this story. It’s about my ex-husband. Yep, *the ex*. And how he’s become, like, my personal sugar daddy… but without the… you know. Let's just say we're "commercially friendly." Is that a thing? It is now!
See, we divorced about, oh, five years ago. Relatively amicable, as far as divorces involving lawyers and restraining orders on my part for trying to take his cat can be. He went on to, well, become obscenely wealthy. Like, buy-a-small-country wealthy. Turns out his "risky investment" in organic kale futures actually paid off. Who knew?
From Ex-Husband to… Benevolent Dictator of Gift-Giving?
So, there I was, perfectly happy (mostly) in my little apartment, working my perfectly normal (ish) job as a dog walker. Life was good! Until… BAM! Out of the blue, I get a call from *him*. Not to rekindle the romance, mind you. He’s dating a supermodel who only eats air and the hopes of aspiring actors. No, he called to… offer me help.
At first, I was suspicious. Like, “Is this a trap? Is he going to try and get the cat back? Does he want to star in a bizarre reality show called 'Exes Behaving Badly'?” But no. It was simpler than that. Apparently, witnessing my… let’s call it “frugal lifestyle” made him feel… guilty? Concerned? Maybe he just wanted to brag about his yacht. Either way, he wanted to “improve my quality of life.”
And boy, has he. It started subtly. A gift certificate to my favorite spa. (I’m pretty sure I spent the entire day there. Don't judge me!). Then, a new (used, but still fancy) car. My old one had, shall we say, seen better decades. I think it was held together by duct tape and sheer willpower. After that, things escalated… quickly.
We're talking front-row tickets to *Hamilton* (twice!), a weekend getaway to Napa (complete with a personal chef who made me the best kale salad I've ever had, which is ironic), and a donation to the animal shelter where I volunteer that was big enough to rename the entire facility "Fluffy Friends Forever (Funded by My Ridiculously Rich Ex-Husband)."
I know, I know. It sounds insane. I feel insane! Sometimes I wake up and think I’m in some bizarre rom-com where the quirky, down-on-her-luck protagonist is unexpectedly blessed by a former spouse with more money than common sense.
The Perks (and the Perils) of Being Pampered
Of course, there are… *challenges*. Trying to explain to my friends why I’m suddenly wearing designer clothes and carrying a purse that cost more than my rent is… interesting. They look at me like I’ve suddenly joined a cult. Which, let’s be honest, I kind of have. The Cult of Luxury.
And then there's the guilt. Oh, the guilt! I keep thinking, “Should I be accepting all of this? Am I enabling his weird, wealthy-person guilt complex?” But then I remember the spa treatments and the really, really soft cashmere sweaters, and the guilt… kind of fades.
Another interesting side effect is the sudden influx of… suitors. Let's just say the knowledge that my ex is a billionaire has made me *significantly* more attractive. It’s hilarious and vaguely terrifying all at the same time. I’ve had to develop a stock answer: "Yes, I'm single. No, you can't borrow his yacht."
The best part? He’s started funding my crazy side hustles. Like, remember that time I wanted to open a dog bakery specializing in organic, gluten-free pupcakes? Yeah, he’s funding that. It's called "Barking Bakes" and it's probably going to bankrupt him. I mean, who am I kidding? It will bankrupt *me* but he can afford it!
And the *most* hilarious part? He’s started asking *me* for business advice. The guy who made a fortune on kale futures is now listening to my opinions on… dog treat marketing. Life is weird, you guys.
The Moral of the Story (Maybe?)
So, what’s the takeaway from all this? Well, first, never underestimate the power of organic kale. Second, be nice to your exes. You never know, one day they might become your eccentric, billionaire benefactor. And third, if someone offers you a free trip to Napa, just say yes. You can figure out the ethics later.
Oh, and if you see a woman walking six fluffy dogs while wearing a tiara and carrying a purse that could pay off your mortgage, that’s probably me. Say hi!
Just don’t ask me to borrow his yacht. Seriously.