Confessions of A Naughty Girl

A Joker, A Smoker, and a 1am Toker (and I Won't Tell You Who Is What)

Yesterday was a bad day. But a good night.

All week, I have been told about how great Dave is. He's young, he's hot, he has his own television show on Food Network (click on the link to find out more about my ideal man, there are some pictures of His Hotness on there, too). And really, who would be a better quasi-celebrity girlfriend than me? My friends were convinced that it would be a good time (or at least a good story) to meet him while he's in town, and I obliged. Who am I to turn down a sexy boy, much less a sexy boy who cooks? (As I've always said...to myself, "Self, A boy who knows how to cook knows how to eat. And both of those are some good qualites to have.") Plus, I love famous people. Perhaps this was going to be better than the night I saw Tom Arnold in for the All-Star Game, and he bought me a drink and told me I "had a nice rack", which is really another story for another time.

So here was the original plan: he was going to a work dinner, and after that, we were going to meet up and hang out with a rising star, drinking and laughing until sunrise.

Here was my plan: he was going to a work dinner, and after that, I would walk into wherever he was, dazzle him with my charm, make him fall in love with me, and plan our walk down the aisle.

Here's what really happened: I met up with him and the rest of my friends after midnight. We met at the chef/owner's house from the hip restaurant they were at earlier. This owner is loaded, with the most amazing kitchen I've ever seen. We sat around, drank, talked, and watched as Dave whipped up his "very special" chocolate chip cookies. Which just so happens to be the best cookie I've ever f*cking eaten. And now I'm in love. Okay, not love. But definite like.


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Sorry for the pause, I had to wipe off some of the chocolate chip smeared on my face. Yum. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that there was definitely some chemistry. It wasn't a fly in the eye or contact lens trouble -- he looked interested, and I'm guessing looked like I wanted to make out with him until I couldn't see straight, because that was the damn truth. So there was some hand touching and knee brushing. And we talked a lot. As we talked, I managed to find out the following:

We were born in the same year.

We both love dogs and hate cats.

We both went to college (he must be a moron; he went to Yale).

Along those same lines, we both dabble in books (he has written one, I have read one).

We are both members of the tribe (does anyone hear a glass breaking in the near future?).

We are both very into cleaning up after ourselves around the house.

I'd say that's a soul mate, right there, eh?

So I did what any self-respecting girl would do: I threw myself at him mercilessly and offered my body as a sacrifice for...well, nothing. Just kidding. I actually acted like a polite lady and just gave him my number and my email and told him to call me or email next time he was in town. He agreed and suggested we hit the town up for some good bars. And he commented on my good penmanship, and said my email address out loud to himself, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. Then came a nice big hug (he cooks, he eats, and he works out, as I was introduced to Smith and Wesson, his major guns, at this point in time) and a kiss on the cheek. Score - KA 1, Rejection 0.

Psych check: I meet a cute, nice, intelligent, funny, single, successful guy who baked cookies for me, continuously touched my knee, and wants to call me next time he's in town (which he is in town quite often, as he is a research and development chef for Delta)? Well....no, no, I really have no issues with that whatsoever.

So now that it's 3:45 am, and the cookie goodness has long since worn off, I am going to bed. To sleep. To dream about the two loves of my life: food, and my little quasi-celebrity crush.

posted by KA @ 11:40 PM