Distinctive answers the question: How did you and Exclusivor meet?
How did Exclusivor and I meet? Yeah, this is a fantastic story, actually.
2016, and I remember this. It was actually during the Republican National Convention. And, I’m riding the Metro in DC, the Red Line. I’d never seen her before. I mean, you’d know if you’d met her before. She took the air - out of the train. I mean she’s one of these people, who … she takes your breath away. From a beauty standpoint, yes, just straight-up, elegant in blue jeans.
I didn’t know who she was, yet. I didn’t know she was an Internet Famous hacker. I knew she was impressively beautiful. So, that was that.
I got to work. I got off the train.
But, then it happened again. So, I have a very stressful job. It’s a stressful job even if, every night, you went home to complete peace and bliss. So, you go home after work, and you have a masseuse waiting… a nice massage, happy ending, a chef prepares anything you want, life in the pillows on the clouds.
If that was your home life, you’d still be incredibly stressed out. The job is just that stressful. So, I’ve got that going on, but I don’t have the cloud-pillows-home-life, my life outside of work is incredibly stressful. I’m being blackmailed. Not the kind of blackmail where you go, ‘well, I’m just going to go to the FBI’, the kind of blackmail that’s working, because you’ve done some stuff that you don’t want to get out, and it’s about to get out.
If I didn’t help, the blackmailer was going to dox me.
So, the second time I see her, she’s at the other end of the train when I get on. But, I still notice her right away. And, over the next couple of stops we get closer and closer, as you know, the Tagno happens. The dance in the morning. People getting on, people getting off. The jostling.
After a couple of stops, we’re standing right next to each other. I’m standing right next to this breathtaking woman.
Have you ever closed your eyes and just walked around your house? Because, what they say about your sensing improving. You know, they say that if you lose the ability to see, the other senses take over. I’ve closed my eyes in my apartment and walked around. If you walk down the hallway, your footsteps sound different if you walk by an open door, as compared to a door that’s closed. The air feels different, smells different, if you are in a room with an open window, compared to a room that doesn’t have an open window. The humidity, the noise from the traffic outside, maybe the smell of flowers, or a diesel truck that just drove by. These are things that are always there, but you just don’t normally notice.
And, I closed my eyes, because I smelled her perfume. And I just wanted to remember that moment.
So, I had my eyes closed, and I remember hearing a woman sobbing. I feel the air around me move, and this woman is just kind of wedging herself in between the sobbing woman and the man that was seated next to her. The man man gives her the stink eye because the woman just pushed her way down. And she leans into this woman who’s sobbing. She starts talking to her. And the woman’s listening. After a minute, she reaches out and grabs this woman’s hands. And, they’re holding hands. And she’s talking to her. And the woman is nodding. And then she gets up, kind of leans over and gives her a hug. Then comes over and stands next to me again.
I don’t know what was said. I don’t know what was said to her.
The next stop, the sobbing woman gets up, gives the breathtaking woman a hug, and got off the train.
It was at the point when the sobbing woman was hugging the breathtaking woman, when I noticed the vest. A bulletproof vest peeking out from underneath and I’m thinking: Fed.
I mean, of course, I mean half the people on the train are feds, but if you have a vest on, right now, and it was one that wasn’t detectable. I’m thinking, this is some high tech vest she has on. I’m figuring if she’s some sort of special agent, she’s probably really good at her job. Because, everyone would want to talk to her.
That’s that, right. Just another day on the train. I get to my stop, I go to get off. I have my backpack on my shoulder… So, there’s an idiot like this at every stop, right. Instead of waiting for people to get off, they start getting on, right? It’s like the same people do this at the elevator, too, right? Let us get off the elevator before you try to get on, okay? There’s always that idiot. People are jostling, I’m trying to get out the door, I’m trying to get the backpack on. I do that thing where you shrug that backpack onto your shoulder, and I do that, but the weight of the backpack isn’t there. And, I turn, just as the doors close, I see through the window of the doors, and the train is pulling away, and I see that beautiful woman, and she has my backpack, she has a knife, and she has a huge smile on her face.
And I’m like, ‘No!’
And, I’m running, I’m chasing this train, and I’m dodging people, and I’m losing this race, in slow motion. It was so maddening.
Basically, if my house caught fire, the only things I would even bother taking were all in that bag. In that backpack, my laptop, my phone, the keys to my apartment, my wallet. The only thing I had was my work badge.
So, I’m at work, and I have to go in. It’s very stressful. People are always trying to hack these Atomic Lathes. I have to tune it, secure it, I’m there almost all day. I do leave early, head back to my apartment, catch management before they leave for the day, get new keys to my apartment, head up, and immediately I can tell: something is different.
You know how I talked about closing your eyes in your apartment, and how the other senses take over. Well, I didn’t walk around with my eyes closed, but my other senses could tell something was different.
For one thing I could see right there on the couch was my backpack. So, I knew the person that stole my backpack was right here in this apartment.
I checked the kitchen: nothing. I checked the half-bath by the front door. Nothing.
I walked down the hall to my bedroom, and there she is. Laying in my bed. That vest I saw earlier? Laying on the bed next to her. She’s asleep. And, I realize, this is my blackmailer. A few minutes later, she wakes up. And, she’s in a lot of pain. Turns out, that’s not a vest, it’s a back brace.
And, the first thing I ask her: “Who are you?”
She says, “They call me Exclusivor.”
I don’t know if I hadn’t crossed paths with her, that I would like my life, as much as I like my life with her in it.
There are so many amazing stories.