Buckhorn

It was a weeknight, in Atlanta, in 2007. I was on firm 'business' and tasked to imbibe and hit on girls all week. I was invited to go to a nice steak dinner with a great friend, who had an official work budget for these things, and several other women. I have no problem with spending time with successful and beautiful women in groups at fine steakhouses in Atlanta, so I was happy and flattered to be invited. I was glad I felt energetic so I could handle the estrogen in that room and so I could successfully hit on whichever of these women suited me. I knew many of the women by name only. There was one woman whose name I had heard around the office many times but had never met, and was definitely indifferent to. I already knew all the good ones, so this name can't possibly be attached to anyone too special.

That not-too-special girl with the name-I'd-heard-around was actually attached to some pretty sweet eyes and a very attractive total package. In fact I was ruined. Her eyes told me something that her words would not confirm. They told me to go for it, which might have led to some funny chances for her to shut a guy down. Not funny from my perspective. But the eyes kept saying "don't give up little buddy." I never gave up entirely but didn't see a point to the chase beyond to flatter her. Then again, creative flattering of beautiful woman is a hobby of mine that I am passionate about.

I worked with this woman, so I saw her around. One day I had nothing going on so I volunteered to do some work for her, but the task was busy work, wouldn't have really accomplished much anyway, and she was busy. I felt defeated and small that day, because I couldn't really help her. I'd still relish in any chance to see her, but I knew at the time that this was nothing more than a man with a kid's crush.