I realize that there are a shitload of good looking people in Los Angeles. I also realize that I'm not in the top tier of those good looking people. I'm maybe in the upper middle region of the good looks scale, but I don't diet or exercise, and I don't consider my career path to be reliant on how I look or dress and so I guess I could call myself moderately attractive. I make up for what I'm lacking with my winning personality, yes, that's true. But at the end of the day, if we're keeping score, I've only accumulated just a few more points because I can tell a few jokes here and there and I know a few things about art, music and comedy. I'm sure that my perfect match will also be moderately attractive and have a similiar knowledge of the world. I don't think I'll be mothering the children of the next David Beckham. I'm really just hoping Michael Cera or the equivalent thereof will give me a shot.

So imagine my surprise when I'm at my favorite Los Feliz watering hole with my girl friend, having a couple of drinks and drowning our moderately attractive sorrows when this guy, this absolute gem of a man, makes eye contact with me. I couldn't be sure, but I looked again and there he was, and not only was he meeting my eyes, he was giving me a furtive sideways glance.  He managed to sidle up alongside my barstool and I told him that I liked his sweater. For a second I lost my nerve because I couldn't believe how good looking he was. Imagine my shock and awe when I didn't need to worry about what to say next because he started hitting on me, practically punching me in the face with every line in the book... and as a moderately attractive woman, hell yeah I was falling for it! I was eating it up!

Then all of a sudden, there were other men circling me, my girl friend and my new ridiculously attractive gentleman friend. It was as if moderately attractive men who had previously been looking for ridiculously attractive women to impress were being robbed of a viable option and they needed to defend their moderately attractive territory. This one dude would not leave me alone, he went from bothering me, to berating my ridiculously attractive gentleman friend for talking to me at all. The guy actually cried out, "You're gonna marry this girl! You're gonna marry her! You idiot!" 

If only I could be so lucky.  Because not only was I talking to what appeared to be the most handsome man in the bar, he was also funny, smart, and a chiropractor. I'd struck gold!

I'm not the kind of person that knows how to invest well. In anything, from money to relationships. I know the proper course of action should have been to give him my number when he asked me for it (which I did) and then told him to give me a call. But look, I didn't want to lose out on an opportunity to make out with him because I was hoping he'd be my boyfriend. He's out of my league anyway. So we went back to my place to "watch a movie" but ended up sucking each others faces until dawn.

 And what a glorious dawn it was. He was even better looking in daylight. I drove him back to his car, he gave me the best goodbye kiss ever and left me with a little bit of hope that we'd see each other again. But even if we don't, there's really no cure for what ails you like a beautiful man paying attention to you even for a little bit.

Sigh. I'll be having sweet dreams for the next week or so.