The Making of Med: Fernanda

I was 23, living in NYC for the first time. The company I was working for just hit a big financial milestone. The CEO comes out of his office and says “everyone cancel your plans tonight, we’re all going on a yacht.” I head home, shower, put on a suit and meet everyone at the port. Everyone is drinking, eating great food, looking sexy. At one point, the yacht stood in front of the Statue of Liberty for 45 minutes and we all just took in the view while getting drunk together. A magical evening really.

I jumped on the subway to head home and saw this incredible Italian girl walking past my subway car. She was tall with long, tan legs and dark hair down to her ass. She was wearing a white and yellow tank top and bright yellow shorts with her stomach showing. I said “Fuck it”, walked to her subway car, and sat next to her.

I made up some excuse to start talking to her. I said, “Sorry I’m not from around here; do you know if this stops at Bedford Ave.?” She said “Yeah, I’m getting off at that stop actually.”

I told her I was crashing at a friend’s house there. We start making small talk about what we did that night. Keep in mind, I’m wearing a suit and am looking and feeling excellent. I said “Feel like grabbing a drink with me?” She said “…now?” It’s a Tuesday at 1 in the morning. I said “Yes.” She goes, “Hm…yeah, let’s go.” At this point we both pretty much know what’s going on here.