When I read this article, it reminded me of the one and only time that I gave out my number at a bar.
I was at the Up and Down club, the now-closed, two-level SOMA bar with some ownership involvement by gorgeous model Christie Turlington. Luckily, Christie wasn't around that night to threaten my A-game with her beauty, because let me tell you - I was single, and I was ready to mingle! In fact, I may even be bold enough to say that Christie was the lucky one to not be threatened by me that night!
I kid.. a little. OK, so I wasn't exactly one of those boy-crazy girls who was constantly on the prowl, but I'll admit that I couldn't help but notice a tall cutie hanging around near the corner of my eye all night. I decided that I wanted to meet him. I believed in a bit of old-fashioned chivalry however, so I didn't want to fly across the room to hunt him down and aggressively attack with my man-eating claws bared. So, rather than making the first move, I decided that I would try to get him to approach me instead.
I told Tina about my plan: "What I'm going to do is make eye contact and then smile. If he thinks I'm cute, he'll come talk to me." Tina simply laughed at me - something she's enjoyed doing as my best friend all these years - but she agreed to be my wingwoman.
We "went to the bathroom" together, but I wasn't able to catch his attention on the way there or when we returned. On our third or fourth ladies' room visit, the target finally looked at me. For all I knew, he might have just been wondering why we seemed to have the smallest bladders on the planet. Whatever the case was, our eyes were locked. Phase one of my master plan was complete.
There wasn't a lot of time for phase two. I mustered up my best twinkly-eyed, nose-crinkled smile, and I flashed it his way. Quick. Not too intense or crazy or stalker-like. As I was getting ready to look away (also part of the plan), I found him making his way though the crowd toward me. He introduced himself and offered to buy me a drink.
Mission accomplished!
We chatted, and I learned that he was going to Harvard Business School. Ah, so I snagged an HBS boy. My dating radar must have been as selective as Harvard's admissions office. They should hire me.
Anyway, HBS boy got my number, and we went on a date that week. Out talk over dinner was... like a business interview of sorts. It was fine, and conversation flowed, but that was about it. No sparks, no second date, no nuthin. I don't know if "Earning That Harvard M.B.A." was "Worth It" or not for this HBS guy, but I didn't stick around long enough to find out.
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1 comment:
honey, you should've pointed the HBS boy my way! i need to take you as my wingwoman out to a bar soon... i know you'd be good! :)
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