Hello domainer darlings, this is Bina Bitterman – the Domain Socialite, and I’m feeling so hot and bothered tonight.
I had a fantastic time at NamesCon last month, and finally got to meet some great domain investors.
Sipping my third Mai Tai of the evening, and I was rather bored, quite frankly. I could not decide whether to wear my Crystal or my Apostrophe Louboutin, when Bill Sweetman sat next to me at the bar.
He literally appeared out of nowhere, no wonder he’s called the Name Ninja. Anyway, he’s quite a charming domainer so we hit it off quickly.
I must tell you though, my domainer darlings, that Sweetman is not as innocent as he appears to be. The dirty stories he whispered in my ear that night, would make a pastor’s wife scream and run for the altar.
Thirty minutes later we were in a Vegas cab, heading to a secret club that Sweetman was invited to. The club was off the Strip and was called the “Red Room.”
I was this close to telling the bouncer that I am Bina Bitterman, the Domain Socialite, to let us in but Sweetman slipped the guy a $20 and we were let in promptly.
It took a few moments for my eyes to get used to the lack of light, and soon after I was able to to see silhouettes that danced and moved to the rhythm of industrial rock music.
Not my cup of tea, but I was anticipating the main part of the gala, which should be quite rewarding, as Sweetman said, then disappeared to get us some drinks.
All of a sudden, someone grabbed me from behind, shutting my mouth with a wet fabric. I passed out in seconds.
When I woke up, I was laying on a bed with red sheets, inside a room that was dark but illuminated by red lights. There were no windows, and I could hear club music coming from above, muffled and distant.
I tried to move, but my hands were tied firmly on the bed posts with what appeared to be silver handcuffs. For crying out loud, I thought, they aren’t even fuzzy and pink!
“Hello my dear, I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long, long time,” said a voice from the far end of the room.
Struggling to move my head to the direction of the voice, I barely managed to recognize Sweetman, dressed in a silky robe. He approached me, carrying a samurai sword, his voice firm and commanding.
“This is the real Red Room, my darling. We are announcing the sale of the domain RedRoom.com on Flippa, and I would love it if you wrote about it. It’s a very old domain, registered in 1996, and it’s getting almost 5,000 unique visits every month. It was a popular web site for book authors back in the day. Will you write about it?”
Did I have a choice?
Sweetman was close to my face, his katana shimmering under the light of the Red Room, the secret dungeon that unspeakable erotic passions could erupt any minute – as long as it was between consenting adults.
Even worse, Sweetman’s consumption of alcoholic beverages must have exceeded the legal limit by a factor of three, and the proof was on his breath.
Nodding and whispering “a-ha!” repeatedly, was not my finest moment but at least I survived the ordeal. Sweetman unshackled me, and a few minutes later I was back in a cab heading to my hotel room, clutching my Hermes Birkin Noir tightly.
While this was not the most gratifying experience so far, I’m certain that it qualifies as one of the kinkiest domain-related moments that I have written about.
So here I am, letting you all domainer darlings know, that RedRoom.com is being auctioned on Flippa. Check out the auction, or Sweetman might pay you a visit at night and drag you to dark-lit night club in the Vegas Strip.
As for you, Bill, call me darling, when you sober up. We never finished that Red Room rendezvous.
~ Bina Bitterman.
Oh Bina, I thought we agreed that what happens in Vegas.com would stay in Vegas.com.