Friday, February 03, 2006

Groundhog Day

I will admit I don't know if Punksatony Phil did or did not see his shadow. I don't know if there is more winter to come or warmer weather to follow...What I do know is that the last two nights in the city I love so much have beat me up! As I wrote in yesterday's entry, Wednesday night ended up coming out of no where to become a bender of mass proportion. As for last night, I had my agency's Holiday/New Year's/Groundhog Day party. It was moved back numerous times in the December due to the strike by the MTA...

The party was at swank Club called BED over on the west side of town. You'd think the combination of an open bar for 5 hours and a place called BED would be an HR nightmare. The funny thing about advertising is the diversity of the people that make it happen. Scanning across the bar can literally bring back dynamics like a 28 year old, mohawked, wearing destroy denim and having at a minimum of 5 piercings art director talking to some white collared, white skinned 45 year old account guy. You just never know...

As for the party itself, it went really well. It, like most parties started off tame and relaxed and later progressed what I would call a pretty good time. It was great to see how well some people clean up. Or how different people look while wearing "work" or "grown up" clothes at the office to the small tops and tight skirts they sported in BED.

Other than a few drunks bumping into me throughout the night, I don't really have any complaints. Except for one. The sorry goes like this: There is a woman I used to work with, not directly in the same division of the agency. She is absolutely stunning! She has such a classic beauty to her it really is amazing. This beauty is there everyday too. I can honestly say that I have never seen her have a rough day. I would compare her to Jennifer Love Hewitt meets Jackie O. As if her perfectly styled hair and make up were not enough, she's got a body that's banging like a new set of drums! She's has such a small, delicate frame that she drapes in what look like the world softest cashmere. Ok, so you get the point, she's a beauty!

So here's where the gripe comes into play. Because she is as attrative as she is, and probably has been her entire life she has to endure the "guys never come and talk to me" routine. I've read or heard that line come out of many Hollywood bombshells who complain guys just don't come up to them because they're too attractive or their looks intimidate guys. As a good looking, not amazing, but a good looking guy I hate to admit that that there may be a sliver of truth in that statement.

So as I saw this woman of the night talking to the same co-worker for the second straight hour I figured I would go in for a little relief. I should mention that this co-worker, a guy has been guilty of wearing penny loafers with no socks on casual Fridays. Not a good look bud, not a good look at all.

I started chatting with the two, nothing serious or of any substance at this point. The guy started to wonder off as I suspected he would. Shortly after I told the belle of the ball that she wore clothes very well, and has a great sense of style. I thought this was the perfect compliment. It wasn't "you have really pretty eyes" or "nice rack." I know she's been told she beautiful a million times, by a million guys. Why through another on the fire was my thinking.

My intelligent and thoughtful comment was soon followed by, "thanks, I know." Yes, that is a quote from the Cindarella's mouth. The worst part is that I don't think she meant it sound or even thought it was possible for that to sound wrong. I'm thinking to myself, "wow she's humble too." If was a nanosecond after those words left her perfectly placed lips that I knew in fact why she feels like "guys never come talk to me."

What can I say, it was not the first time a beautiful girl amazed me in BED....


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