Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Dating story #21, the holiday double-header.

So, I've already been to THREE holiday parties this week.
[it's TUESDAY!]


Party Lindsey is pretty partied out!   Please forgive the lack of BEAUTYFULL-ness this Tuesday.  Perhaps later this week will be more beautiful!  Until then, we can chit-chat about last night.  


I woke up still exhausted from the weekend, but knew it was time to rally.  Game face on, people-- We've got a HOLIDAY DOUBLE-HEADER on our hands! So, I packed my bag o' attire, 'cessories, shoes, make-up [obvi LOTS of concealer!] and headed off to tackle the longest day ever.  
First up, my ad agency's holiday party at a cool space in midtown west.  This is my 5th year there, and I've been to many a party, so I knew I wouldn't be too remorseful when I had to leave halfway through to get to party #2.
The fun part about party #1, is that I was pretty glam-diva'd up in preparation for dressy party #2. Funny story about that-- I was really having a serious debate about what I would wear.  I knew I needed to "shop my closet" for these events, but nothing I owned was really striking me as right for both events.  Then, last Friday I came home from work to a package from Gilt Groupe. Now, this is a pretty common occurance. But this time I really had NO clue what it could be.  I went upstairs and discovered the most AMAZINGLY PERFECT sexy, classy black dress EVER. Slinky, tight but flattering, asymmetrical with one long sleeve and one no sleeve.  And,  I have no recollection of ordering said dress.  But lo and behold, it even fit like a glove.  Thank you, fashion angel, for sending me some love via UPS!  Waiting on better pics, but here's a little sample:  
Sexy, freaky weirdness.
So ad party #1 was in full swing when I get there and drunken inappropriateness abounded.  Think "MAD MEN's" Xmas party, only in current times with new and fun words to learn from the 20-something office boys such as "That gave me a fear boner!" [ew] and "This champagne is already enhancing my sexy, freaky weirdness!"  They are fun to hang out with.  And by "fun" I mean, "fun for a limited time only." And, when some of them started to get handsy, I knew it was time to peace out and hit the class-tastic party uptown.  This was an invite-only event thrown by a big editing facility at the illustrious Mandarin Oriental.  I figured there had to be some fun to be had there and, of course, the possibility of a new and interesting prospect(s) did cross my mind!  So, a few of us swanky-seekers left the advertising slush-fest for a slightly classier [albeit equally slushy!] version further uptown.  As we left, we discovered the temperature had dropped about 100 degrees AND snow flurries were falling.  This was amazing news to me, as I had made the decision, after Al Roker told me the high would be 49 that day, to wear a shorter coat, no stockings and my favorite pair of foot fabuloulessness, my hot pink SATIN Louboutins I so famously scored for FREE from a shoot once upon a time.  I honestly don't know why I even bothered to shave my legs that day. 3 minutes in that ice box outdoors and it 
undoubtedly grew about 12 inches.  Awesomeness!
We walked into what I can only describe as an incredibly elegant ballroom with a panoramic view of the city, as snowflakes softly fell on it.  And, plenty of over-served ad industry people in cocktail attire busting a move on the dance floor to the live band.  Now that's a party, my friends!  And then I spotted my next conquest: The 'Stache.  Of course, he was one of the only guys not in cocktail attire [apparently he didn't get that memo!], but I didn't care.  It's actually kinda better because I got to see what his style was like. And, I likey!  The 'Stache is 6'4", nice build, and yes, some very interesting facial hair that I'm still not completely sure how I feel about, but definitely still attracted to him. I was standing near him and looked over and said "This is the best Bar Mitzvah I've ever been to!" He loved it.  And I was in.  We began chatting and I was getting all the right signals-- eye contact, attentiveness, intermittent touching of my shoulder (the bare one!).  YES.  He stepped away to get some drinks and I turned to my 2 girlfriends nearby to prepare for ridicule. Why ridicule, you ask?  Well, mid-way through my tete a tete with The 'Stache I realized he is basically an edgier, better-looking doppelganger of my recent ex-boyfriend, Champ.  And I knew, undoubtedly, that my friends had realized this as well. I was right.  I said, "well, apparently, I have a "type."  "We know," was their immediate response while they attempted to choke back laughter. But, I'm ok with this.  And The 'Stache and I had a lovely time together until the party ended and they shooed us out of there.  We decided we'd like to have another drink but, seeing as we were in Columbus Circle, we knew we'd need to take the party downtown.  So we ended up at the closest bar possible to my apt.  It was actually an accident, but the one that's farther away was absolutely PACKED with no seating.  On a MONDAY!  NYC never ceases to amaze me.  Even better was having to traipse from the packed bar to the other in my seasonally inappropriate ensemble.  But The 'Stache offered me his arm {swoon} and I managed to make it.  A few glasses of red later, we were well into funny, interesting conversation, peppered with a smattering of him "accidentally" (on purpose) touching my legs from time to time, and me praying the new leg-hair growth had receded.  A kiss was inevitable and I was just waiting for him to make the move.  He finally did and...sigh...eh?  Not the best trip to smoochtown I've ever had, but I think I can work with it. Don't you think kissing gets better the better you get to know someone? Or is this just wishful, kissful thinking?  
Suddenly, I realized it was 2:30am [ouch] and still Monday [ouch], I knew we had to jet. My master plan was to have him walk me around the corner to my door, have a nice (hopefully) little make-out sesh and send him packing.  But alas, how could I send my new facial-haired friend back to Brookland at 2:30am in the midst of a blizzard?  I just didn't have the heart.  Plus, I knew my apt would probably be freezing and it could be quite helpful to have a warm body to slumber with.  But I made the rules very clear from the start and he obliged. [Aren't you proud of me??]  And we had a nice, snuggly little slumber party for the few short hours it lasted until it was time for us to head back to the salt mines.  The 'Stache did make sure to get my digits and even FB friended me today, which means he remembered my last name from the one time I mentioned it.  Perhaps there's some actual potential here!  Or at least enough for another meeting, and maybe, [gasp!] a REAL date! That would possibly be the loveliest birthday present I could receive.  
And, although today was amazingly painful (especially this morning!), I feel quite fortunate to work for an employer that understands and respects the post holiday-party hangover and provides a nice, greasy hangover brunch complete with mimosas [VIM] and an aspirin cocktail on each table.  Gotta love advertising sometimes!  


Lesson:  Always open with a joke, keep an open mind when it comes to the lip-tango, and never, ever listen to Al Roker's forecast when you're rocking 4" satin treasures on your feet.



4 comments:

  1. Those shoes. Dribble....dribble....dribble... that's my mouth open with drool hitting the floor. SOooooooooo jealous that you have the second most absolutely freaking gorgeous pair of shoes that I have ever seen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, I miss my heel days (SAHM-no need.boo.).

    ** You looked awesome and pretty in that drees!

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  2. Kissing totally gets better when you get to know someone! My ex was the WORST kisser when I met him and now years later I still miss his kisses cuz I think they were the best! haha . . . it did take 6 months to train him though. =)

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  3. Robin, you're so sweet! a) i'm dying to know what the First most gorgeous pair of shoes are? b) SAHM or not, EVERY woman needs a seriously hot pair of heels. even if they never leave the bedroom.... Get on it, girl!

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  4. My husband was an awful kisser (I'm not mean, he knows. I remind him all the time...ok I'm mean) but it was like having a blank canvas that I could mold to my liking, you just have to take charge. I absolutely love your stories! I had to read this one in chapters, but I think the 'Stache has the most potential I've seen on your blog so far.

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