Bianca: Broke, Bougie, and Looking for Love
Episode Two: A Man in a Patagonia Vest, and Other Red Flags
Bianca adjusted the collar of her (faux) fur coat and perched at the edge of her Metro-North seat as if the train were a first-class Emirates flight and not... whatever this leather situation was.
She had carefully chosen the Hudson Line today, she'd heard whispers about men with trust funds who owned actual canoes and cottages. And honestly, if a man didn’t own land and linen pants, what exactly were they doing here?
That’s when he boarded.
Tall. Clean-cut. Subtle scent of inherited wealth. He wore the universal uniform of generational affluence: Patagonia vest, button-down shirt, and the quiet confidence of a man who had never had to apply for a student loan.
Bianca tilted her sunglasses down an inch. “Hello, destiny,” she whispered.
He sat across from her, took out a Kindle, and she peaked at the title, something Quantum Something Something and the Structure of the Universe. Bianca squinted at the screen, then immediately pulled out The Alchemist, flipping to a page she had dog-eared solely for this type of emergency.
She cleared her throat gently and crossed her legs the way she imagined Amal Clooney would on public transit. “That’s a fascinating read,” she said with a British lilt that had grown even stronger since breakfast.
He looked up. “Oh? You’ve read it?”
She blinked. “No. But I’m fluent in... curiosity.”
A pause. He smiled.
Score.
They chatted for the next three stops. His name was Chad. Of course it was. He worked in fintech, lived in Tarrytown, and rowed competitively “just for fun.” His idea of a perfect Sunday included chai tea, journaling, and barefoot hikes with his ex-girlfriend turned “platonic soulmate.”
Bianca nodded enthusiastically while silently screaming. Why did they always have exes who were still on the scene? And what exactly was a platonic soulmate, was that like a roommate with abs?
But she stayed cool. After all, she was playing the long game. As they pulled into the Scarsdale Station, he reached into his Patagonia vest and handed her a business card, minimalist, of course.
“Let’s keep in touch,” he said.
She smiled, accepting it like a Grammy. “I don’t usually mix business with pleasure,” she said, tucking it into her phone case for safekeeping, “but I can make an exception.”
As he walked off into the crowd, she turned back to the window, lips pursed.
Red flags? Absolutely.
Potential? Possibly.
Content for her future memoir? Without a doubt.
Bianca smoothed her skirt and reapplied her lip gloss. Tomorrow, she'd try the 5:10 AM train leaving Grand Central Terminal. Who knew what emotionally unavailable entrepreneur awaited her during rush hour?
Tune in Next Week’s Episode: Kwame the Ex that Won’t Go Away