Were You a Yuppie?

Op, That’s a preppy in your picture.

I wasn't old enough to be a yuppie, but the 1990s made me appreciate the good grooming skills of preppies.

I was a preppy. I used Preparation H.

Damn, I so wanted to look like that back in the day. Frosted, longish hair, sweater, ‘tude.

I was a "guppy".

1990 I became a yuppie - or guppie. Uncle Charlie’s in the Village was filled with us. Different time and place - but in retrospect I appreciate it was the coming of the Uber-gentrification of NYC and the elimination of the grit and working class segments of NYC that gave it character. But in the early 90s, it was a great life. Work hard all week on Wall Street - then party at the crazy, free, drug filled clubs on the weekend with all types of people, many of whom were living on next to nothing but still able to live a creative, free life in NYC.

I was too young to be a yuppie, but I had a MAD crush on Judd Nelson in "Billionaire Boys' Club," seeing him all cleaned up after his turn as delinquent John Bender in "The Breakfast Club." Serving up yuppie realness. Very hot.

Yes! I graduated college in 1983 and got my first corporate job the following year.

I traveled all over the country on business, wearing one suit on the plane, with four more in a garment bag, because suits were required, of course, and it just wouldn't do to be seen in the same one twice in one week. I ate in fine restaurants and stayed in fancy hotels.

I was so well-known to the women at the TWA Ambassador's Club, that during one snowy night in St. Louis, when everything was hopelessly delayed, I walked into the club only to see a long line of frazzled gray-haired businessman lined up at the desk, trying to get rescheduled. The woman behind the desk saw me, greeted me by name, told to go right in, make myself comfortable, and she'd let me know when she had rebooked me. I was only in my 20s and I felt like Warren Buffett.

I was thin, unwrinkled, and had a full head of hair. On weekends, I wore Lacoste, Topsiders, and Polo. My suits were from Brooks Brothers and Saks Fifth Avenue. I had a platinum American Express card. I fucked my way from one coast to the other and back again. I got cruised by flight attendants, waiters, hotel desk staff, and one night while working late, the cute Latino janitor, who closed the office door behind him and let me deep throat his fat, uncut cock.

One fall afternoon after landing at SFO, I noticed people literally running through the terminal. All the pay phones were occupied and the bars were ten people deep with everyone trying to see the news on TV. I thought maybe the president had been shot (again), but no, it was the Crash of 1987.

By January, 1988 my company closed my division and I was out of work. I had to move out of my apartment on the 30th floor with a bay view and rent a room from a friend who had a rundown house. I'd never saved a dime, and the Visa people were not forgiving. Gone was the platinum credit card. The fancy suits hung forlornly in the closet.

It took me 5 years to get back on my feet, but 30 years later I still remember the feeling of being on top of the world one day and having it all vanish, seemingly overnight. For me, the Ben Affleck movie, The Company Men was scarier than any horror film as I worried it could all happen again.

I was too fat to be a prep or a yuppie.

Preparation H... Preppy