I Broke The Streak!

OMG... A boy from school asked me out on a date... to LaSalle Grille. Now girls, before I go any further, this is like one of the nicest spots in all of South Bend. They have candles on the table and everything. This guy - let's call him Javier - was so sweet... and cute ;) Just like some of the guys I've seen on those websites I like to surf at night. He is a 1yr which means that he isn't as jaded as the normal MBAs. I just hope he doesn't know about this blog. I don't want him to think i'm desperate.

Back to the date. I was so excited. I cleared off my schedule, which was easy because there wasn't anything on there to begin with. I bought a bright green dress that makes me look sexy and it doesn't give me a camel toe like my muffintop pants. When Javier picked me up, he had a single rose for me. It was so romantic. I thought, DAMN I'M GOIN TO BREAK THE STREAK TONIGHT!

So you must be asking, "Anita, how was dinner?" I really don't remember other than awesome. He ordered a bottle of red wine and told me all about his houses in Malibu and Vail. He said I should come up during Spring Break to Ski. I didn't know you could waterski in Vail? After dinner, we met some of his friends upstairs at the Club. They talked about how they all used to work as I-Bankers in NYC. They were so cool. Who knew that you could do so much w/a Bloomberg terminal!

After the Club, he took me back to The Pointe. As were were waiting at a stoplight, he reached over and kissed me and grabbed my butt...and....... IT FELT GOOD. I was so wrong about a guy grabbing my butt. Back at his place, he ripped off my clothes before the front door even closed. The rest of the night was a complete blur but I do remember thinking that I'll need to change the name of my blog. WHAT SHOULD I CALL IT?

And then I woke up... alone... in my own bed. When an AWESOME dream! Too bad it'll never be reality. Maybe I shoudl stop feelin sorry for myself and do something constructive.

Alone, in my bed, halfway through my second container of Bon Bons,
Anita Mann