Here’s How I Ended Up Eating Pizza With Taylor Swift In Her Apartment Last Night


This is how I wish this story went–I’m hustling down the street in NYC headed to a big meeting when I spot a smoking hot blond who looks kinda familiar. Her beauty is stunning enough such that it stops me in my tracks. As she approaches, I realize the girl bears a striking resemblance to Taylor Swift.

“Taylor?” I say with a healthy skepticism. She looks up at me and we lock eyes. It’s her! She smiles and bites her lower lip bashfully. “Hey!” she says as she hugs me. We exchange pleasantries and I tell her I’m a big fan of her playful dancing and lip synching in her seat at award shows. I crack a couple topical jokes about Israel/Palestine that have her laughing hysterically, and when a nearby tween realizes it’s her and a crowd starts to form, she says, “you wanna get outta here?”

I blow off my important meeting (a massage) and Taylor and I hop into an Uber and head down to Tribeca. Once we get to her apartment, we spend hours getting to know each other. “It’s so great hanging with someone who’s a normal guy for once!” she giggles. I take that as a sign, and move in for the make out. We spend the next thirty-six hours making sweet passionate love, rising from her bed only periodically to get the door for the Seamless delivery guy. I leave her apartment as she swoons over what an experience it was. She writes an entire album about our three day tryst titled “Poundtown,” and it goes quadruple platinum and I become rich and famous by association.

That’s how I wish this story went down, but I’m sad to say, it started with me entering a lame online contest. A week ago, Taylor tweeted this:


I OBVIOUSLY follow her (on Twitter, not real life *nervous chuckle*), and noticed the “Calling All NYC Fans.” I’m a New Yorker AND a fan AND am 18+ (a prerequisite for entering), so this was basically written for me. I clicked on the link and even though I had no idea what I was entering, I submitted an entry into the contest. You had to write three sentences about what makes you such a Taylor fan, and I said something along the lines of, “Even though I’m a 28-year-old dude, I love Taylor and don’t care who knows it!” But the thing is, I do care who knows it, so it was a LIE. HAHA! That’ll show them for taking me at face value.

I forgot that I even entered it, until Thursday evening, when I got a call from a random number while I was at a bar. When I picked up, I was greeted by a girl who identified herself as being from I don’t often get calls from, and had forgotten about the contest, so I was quite confused. “You entered a contest to attend Taylor’s live stream?” she asked. It all came back to me. “Oh, yes! Of course.” She informed me that I’d been selected!

The bar was a little loud, so I couldn’t hear her that well, and I’m not the most emotive person in the world, which I guess is what prompted her to ask, “aren’t you excited?” “Yes! So excited!” I responded, trying my best to imitate how a normal person who was excited would sound.

She spent the next 15 MINUTES going through all this secret info about where to go and what passwords to use and how they’d be confiscating my phone and how I couldn’t tell ANYONE about it until after the event. The problem there was that I couldn’t think of a single one of my friends who would give a shit. Here was the rub– “This invite is for you only, you will not be permitted to bring a guest.” Was I really about to attend a Taylor Swift concert by myself? You’re goddamn right I was.

I received an email confirming that this was in fact a real thing, and telling me that it would take place from 1:30pm-8:30pm on Monday. SEVEN HOURS? Who the hell can afford to spend seven hours on a Monday going to a Taylor Swift concert? I wanted to go simply to see who the hell has this little going on in their life. I almost backed out, but if I ended up missing out on an opportunity to make out with Taylor, I would’ve never forgiven myself. I’ve also recently decided to start doing things that will lead to memorable experiences, and this certainly seemed to qualify, so I said “yolo” and decided I was in. If nothing else, I figured it would make for a good story.

Here’s how the day went down –

1:40 p.m. – They told us to arrive at some hotel in Midtown between 1 and 2 p.m. After a quick, solo Halal cart lunch, I strolled in at 1:40 p.m., and was revealed as the last person to arrive. I witnessed a girl try to gain access to the event despite not being selected, and after being denied entry, she exited the hotel sobbing. This was a sneak peak into the types of extreme emotions I’d be exposed to throughout the day.

I was put into a line with a bunch of the other winners (I use the term “winner” loosely), and was immediately taken aback by how nervous and talkative everyone was. I’m generally bothered by people’s excitement, so this was my hell. I was trying to read a book while waiting on line, but could barely concentrate because of all the yapping that was going on around me. Once I reached the check-in table, I was forced to surrender all my belongings. I didn’t know how I was gonna survive seven hours without my phone, but I had no choice. I tried to sneak in my chap stick (I hate having dry lips), but the security guard found it during the pat down and said it needed to be checked.

“You ain’t gonna be kissin’ anyone in there,” he assured me. This dude was already challenging my ability to make out with Taylor, and I didn’t care for it. Not one bit.

1:50 p.m – All of us were seated in a little banquet hall in the basement of the hotel. There were about 90 people total, and only around 10 guys. Of those 10 guys, I would bet my life savings on the fact that I was the only straight one… and after this day, I’m not sure I can really call myself straight anymore.

I was seated at a table with five other people, and everyone started getting to know each other. We introduced ourselves, and one of the main topics of discussion seemed to be how far people traveled to get here. One girl drove from New Hampshire, another from West Virginia, another took a bus from Baltimore. My answer of “I took the N train three stops,” did NOT seem to impress anyone.

We then started discussing what we’re going to ask Taylor if there’s a Q&A. I zoned out for a little while, and came to just in time to hear the dude next to me talk about how he wants to tell her how her music helped him when he came out of the closet. How the hell am I supposed to top that? When everyone then turned to me, I said, “I’m probably just gonna ask if she enjoys making out, and if she does, would she like to do it with me.”

This was my attempt to both assert my heterosexuality at the table, and also prove that I was the bad ass of the group. I think it accomplished both.

2:30 p.m. – The two broads who work for came into the banquet hall and gave a speech about something that was boring enough that I didn’t listen. They tried to determine who traveled the furthest to get there, and people shouted out Arizona, Kentucky, Illinois, and Utah. Wow. I immediately realized how outmatched I was in my Taylor fandom. They informed us that we’d be waiting around for about another hour, and asked us to get into groups based on what it said on our bracelet. I said goodbye to my new friends and went to make some new ones.

3:00 p.m. – I was seated in a circle with about twenty other Swifties. We went around the circle and introduced ourselves. Everyone seemed to be a mentally questionable female between the ages of 18-22, or a gay man between the ages of 22-30. One of the members of our group suggested we go around and talk about “the moment we knew how much we loved Taylor.” I listened intently as people shared personal stories about how they discovered and fell in love with Taylor. I started to realize that I may have won this contest based on some type of clerical error, as I don’t have a fraction of the Swift superfandom that the rest of the group seemed to possess. I almost started to feel bad about the fact that there were probably millions of other people who would appreciate this more than me, but this was no time for survivor’s guilt. When it got to me, I knew I couldn’t let down the group with “I’m not sure I ever had like a 9/11 moment where you remember where you were, but I dunno, I think she’s super hot and I like to watch her dance around. I have a bunch of her songs on my iTunes, and I actually have her entire last album, which I really enjoyed, so… yeah.”

So, I just lied and made up a story about how when I was living in Nashville I saw her in Starbucks, and after meeting her I went and listened to her music and fell in love. Gave me a lotta street cred to say that I already met her, even though this meeting was completely fictional.

4:10 p.m. The ladies came back in for another announcement, and everyone fell into an excited hush. At this point, we still had no idea where we were going or what we were doing. They say that before we head to the venue, they want to warm everyone up. “Jesus Christ,” I mumble to myself. I instantly know this is gonna involve me having to dance. I don’t mind dancing, but I have to be either a) really drunk, or b) grinding with some dame.

They put on T Swift’s song “22,” and the entire room started dancing and singing along. This was the first of many “what the fuck am I doing here” instances. They were taking video, which may end up on her website or something, and I hope it does, so you can get a slight idea about just how out of place I looked. I was surrounded by adeens (adult in age, but teen in demeanor), dancing around like it was bid day at a sorority house. There was one girl that was actually very cute, so I enjoyed watching her dance around, as I tapped and clapped my hands and moved my hips just slightly enough to make it seem like I was dancing.

4:30 p.m. – We were ushered in groups across the street to a Good Morning America studio designed to look like a quaint apartment. We were seated throughout the studio, and as I walked in, I couldn’t help but feel like all the assorted security dudes and stagehands looked at me and thought “what a pussy.” I wanted to go punch one of them in the face just to establish my manhood, but I held back.

As we waited for Taylor to come out, the other Swifties around me were in full freakout mode. Things I heard include – “This is the best day of my life” (all we’d done so far was sit in a room for almost four hours), “my palms are so sweaty right now,” “I’m shaking,” “I can’t breathe,” and “I feel like after this I can just die and be okay with it.” I sat there quietly and periodically glanced at my watch.

5:00 p.m. – The moment of the live stream arrived! There was a countdown and everything. I still had no idea what the hell I was about to watch. I thought it was supposed to be a concert, but there appeared to be no instruments anywhere in sight. At 5 p.m. on the dot, Taylor entered and greeted the out-of-control crowd. I now have to say what I think we all already know – she is hot. She is smoking hot. I looked for flaws, but found none. I just don’t understand how anyone could claim she’s not hot. Whenever there’s a hot celeb convo and I mention her name, to some people, it’s like yelling the n-word, and I don’t understand it. She looks like a model, but she actually seems to have a personality. Did I mention that she looked hot?

She started yapping about how she has some secrets to reveal. I secretly hoped that one of the secrets was that this was going to turn into a huge gang bang, but sadly, that was not the case.

To give you an idea of what most of the crowd looked like throughout the live stream, here is a screenshot:

It started to become clear that this was not a concert, but an announcement. “I just waited four hours to hear her make an announcement?” I grumbled to myself. I like getting to see her ten feet from me and all, but I rather would’ve actually had a productive day.

She got to her first of three announcements rather quickly, and explained that she’s releasing a new single, “Shake It Off.” I could barely pay attention to the song when it then started to play for the crowd, because she got up and started working her way around the room, dancing with everyone. The crowd went nuts. I, once again, self-consciously two-stepped in place and tried to look like I wasn’t as big of an out-of-place creep as I actually was. One of the girls next to me turned to me and said, “you’re supposed to dance!” That was the closest I’ve ever come to hitting someone. JK, but seriously, shut up lady.

Taylor was such a hot dancer. She’s not a hot dancer in the way that a Rihanna or Shakira are hot dancers. She’s hot in a “most fun girl at a frat party who is there to have a good time with her friends” type of way. But she’s gorgeous, and a good dancer, so it works. She was pulling random people out from the crowd to dance with her and I prayed really hard that I wasn’t one of those people, and thankfully, I managed to survive the song unscathed.

5:15 p.m. – She talked about how she’s releasing a new album titled “1989,” and it’s going to be released on 10/27. I figure I owe her a plug, so go pre-order it here! She then played the video for the new song, and despite what Covucci said, I think the song AND the video are pretty bomb. I’m gonna be bumping this one for sure. It’s already stuck in my head.

5:30 p.m. – She took some questions from social media, and one from the audience. When the dude from the audience asked a question, it was one of the only times you got a clear view of my face, and it couldn’t be a more appropriate picture to sum up how I compared to the rest of the crowd –

That’s me lookin’ supes unamused in the top left. I assure you I was enjoying myself, but like I mentioned earlier, I’m not the most emotive dude in the world. Plus, this group was giving laughs at every dumb ass thing everyone said, and I’m not one for handing out charity laughs.

5:45 p.m. – Taylor wrapped up her presentation and said farewell to the millions (maybe?) watching around the world. It wasn’t until then that I finally realized I would not be seeing a concert that day. But whatever, it was a pretty cool experience. You can watch a video highlight of the live stream here, complete with even more shots of me looking uncomfortable, if you’re into that sort of thing. The back of my head gets a lotta play. She then asked the crowd if after she finished up some interviews, we’d want to hang out and get pizza with her. I ate like shit this past weekend and was gonna try to eat healthy this week, but I figured, what the hell, okay, I’m in.

6:00 p.m. – They loaded us up onto buses, and once again, we had no idea where we were going. I don’t want to talk too much shit about the other attendees because they were a good-natured bunch, but there were some real spazzes at this thing. Who would’ve thought holding an event for a superfan of anything mid-day on a Monday would attract people who don’t have that much going on. In fact, and this is true, one guy wore a shirt that said “Not A Whole Lot Going On.” “Ya don’t say,” I thought to myself.

We started heading downtown, and the bus was abuzz with adeens going nuts about how amazing Taylor was. We got to Tribeca, and when we pulled onto a certain block, the bus started screaming and freaking out. I had no idea what was going on, but I guess the other Swifties knew that this was the block Taylor lived on. If I were Taylor, I would’ve immediately found out which fans knew where she lived, and had them arrested. That shit’s creepy.

6:30 p.m. – They ushered us into her building, which surprisingly does NOT have a doorman. My parents won’t even let my sister live in a non-doorman building in the Big Apple. I guess the fact that Taylor has a huge live-in security team of bad ass dudes means she can do without a useless old Irish guy sitting in the lobby. I’m so jealous she doesn’t have to deal with awkward doorman chatter.

We took the stairs up to her apartment, and I was sufficiently winded by the top, even though it was only like five flights. The adeens behind me were talking a mile a minute about how they’re going to pass out if they see her cat. They even cared about her cat! I couldn’t believe it. Once we got close enough to see inside, the girl next to me exclaimed in wonderment, “oh my god, her wall is red just like the name of her album. It’s so perfect.” I’ve never seen a more hilariously ordinary red wall.

We waited on line to head into the apartment, as Taylor greeted everyone and chatted for a minute or two before they headed in. At one point Taylor’s dad came out to take out the trash, which I found weird and funny. He took a gander at the line and joked, “did they just let everyone on the street up here?” It was an endearingly corny dad joke that made me smile.

7:00 p.m. – Once again, I felt judged by all the security dudes who saw me, a grown man, amidst a crowd of adeen Swifties, but I was too focused on figuring out what I would say to Taylor when I got up there to be concerned with these brutes. Talking to celebrities always feels so forced to me, especially in an instance like this where I didn’t really have anything of substance to say. What was I gonna say, “Just wanted to let you know, your Instagrams give me major wood.”

Taylor had done a quick wardrobe change since we last saw her, and also now wasn’t wearing shoes, which I think was meant to indicate that she’s comfortable in her own home. Read ya loud and clear, T-$. She was greeting us in groups of three, and when I got to the front she gave me a warm hug and thanked me for coming. I was worried that I’d immediately chub up, but luckily, I didn’t. The two girls I was with quickly jumped to some boring stories about how one of them went to her concert, and the other saw her on an airplane or some nonsense. I was pretty amazed by how Taylor could pretend to give a shit about any of these stories. Not only did she seem genuinely interested in this bullshit, she was so good at making them feel like she cared. She was surprisingly funny and self-deprecating. I was super impressed. I think she could tell that I had nothing to add to this conversation, and we were ushered into the living room.

Taylor’s apartment is sick. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that. I snagged a couple of pepperoni and mushroom pizza slices and started to give myself a tour. I was pleasantly surprised at how chill they were with all of us milling about. There were plenty of security guys present, but four of the rooms were open to us, and we were allowed to stroll around as we pleased. My mom and dad won’t let me eat in the living room of their apartment, and here I was, walking from room to room with some ‘za in hand in Taylor Swift’s apartment like I owned the place.

I admired her Grammys, VMA’s, and CMA’s which adorned the wall. I checked out what type of booze she had stocked in her bar (little bit of everything). I looked at all the Polaroids she had on her wall from various tours. I took a piss in her bathroom. The whole apartment smelled like a unicorn vagina; it was heavenly. I was starting to get into this.

8:00 p.m. – After she greeted everyone, we all hung out in the kitchen while she scarfed down some pizza and chatted with the crowd and Perez Hilton, who was there for some reason. Again, a lot of the adeens in the crowd were throwing some pretty bizarre shit at her, and she handled everything amazingly. There were so many things that people said that if I were her, I would’ve looked at them and been like “get the hell out of my apartment, you freak.” But I guess that’s why I’m not Taylor Swift.

She had Z100 on her speakers the entire time, and while we hung in the kitchen, her new song came on the radio. Taylor got crazy excited (as did all the adeens), and to my immense chagrin, the whole kitchen turned into a dance party. At this point in the day, I was so god damn sick of spontaneous dance parties. I’ve never had so much trouble figuring out what to do with my hands as I did in that moment. Taylor danced over to the area I was standing, and started doing her sexy fun dancing thing, and I had no idea what the hell to do. “Do I grind with her?” I wondered. I ultimately decided, no, I don’t grind with her. Impregnating her in front of her father and security team is not a risk I wanted to take. I danced around the best I could, and have never felt more awkward in my entire life. Fun dancing next to gay men and 20-year-old girls is a battle I never want to wage ever again.

After the spontaneous dance party ended, we headed back into the living room and took turns taking pics with her, while holding her awards. I held her Grammy for Best Country Song for “Mean.” I really wanted to reenact the Kanye VMA’s incident with her Moon Man, but she was only doing group pics, so I decided not to rock the boat. I’m not sure where these pics are gonna get posted (they were taken via Polaroid camera), but if they end up on her website or something, I’ll make sure to link to it.

After all the pics were taken, that was it. Our time in Taylor’s magical world was over. We headed to the door where she handed us a gift bag with two t-shirts in it. She gave me another hug as I exited, and though I wanted to whisper, “I’m going to go hide in the bathroom and wait for the rest of these boners to leave, meet me there in ten without any underwear on,” I settled with “thanks so much for having me.” I blew it. I could’ve been “Taylor’s Mystery Man,” in the tabloids, but instead, I’m just another lowly Swiftie.

What did I learn?

1. Taylor Swift is just as hot in person, and seems to have zero physical flaws.

2. She’s either legitimately very cool and down to earth and low maintenance, or she is a master at being able to hide her true self whenever fans are around. Even if it is a bit of an act, I can’t think of a single other celebrity who would invite 90 fans into their apartment, hang out, and dance around with them. Maybe Tom Sizemore, but it would be the result of a drug relapse.

3. Taylor Swift superfans are kinda weird, but generally harmless and nice.

4. It takes a lot for me to be excited about meeting a celeb.

5. I’m really bad at sober dancing, especially in a crowd.

6. I enjoy Taylor Swift’s new song, “Shake It Off.”

7. The pop star superfans who have Twitter handles like @TaylorSwiftIsLife94 with bios that say something like “On March 12, 2013, Taylor Swift favorited a tweet I wrote,” are actually REAL people! And they’re just as disturbingly obsessed as you might expect!

8. I might never get to make out with Taylor Swift.

Taylor, if you read this and realize what an opportunity you blew, please feel free to DM me on Twitter, and we can make arrangements for a follow-up meeting. My apartment has a doorman, so it is safer than yours. Just saying.

In conclusion, please enjoy this picture of me in one of the Taylor Swift t-shirts that was in my gift bag. I think it was meant to fit a girl, but nevertheless, I shall wear it to bed tonight WITH PRIDE. Thanks, Taylor!

UPDATE: I got both pictures from the glorious day! Check them out below. In the big group picture, I’m the sinister-looking loner in the back right, and I think you can figure out which one I am in the Polaroid from her apartment.

I also realized that I left out a major observation from the day – I think Taylor looked really cute with her bangs. Cool. Glad I was able to sneak that in here.

Thanks to Taylor and her team for being cool about this article and not trying to get me to take it down or anything. I was worried they wouldn’t send me my pics! They were great sports.