The People We Meet

Last night, while waiting for a couple of friends to meet me at the Ink Magazine party, I popped into the Soho Grand to sip a glass of Bordeaux and earn a few people-watching points.

As I sat down, a well-dressed gentleman near me struck up a conversation.  A brash, bold and slightly narcissistic much older man with a passion for, well, himself, he was quick to let me know that I was there to meet him.  He explained that I liked this fact because he had an ability to read facial expressions.

I wasn’t. I didn’t. He couldn’t.

Still, he was entertaining.  I was in.

After sharing how important he was with me (and listening to me  me explain that he was rude and arrogant) he smiled.

” I am arrogant and rude.  You’re one of a few people– and the only woman–to call me out.  I love it!” he said.

Suddenly, he looked very familiar to me. I realized that I knew this guy. He was a  concentrated and older version of a very reckless, bold and hilarious friend from college.

“When is your birthday,” I asked.

“You’re an Aries, aren’t you?”

He laughed.  “Yes!”

“Makes perfect sense now,” I said.

Now, there are few things Aries men love more than listening to people tell them about themselves and he was no exception.

“Tell me why it makes sense,” he said,

“Aries boys are flat-out convinced they rule the world and simply adore a challenge. They want to win everything, including your submission.  But give in and they’re off to fight another battle.  You’re a bunch of sick little fella’s,” I said.

He laughed.  “What are you?”

“Aries, and I love to fence with you sickos,” I said.

He toasted me.

He continued to explain his massive impact on the world and then told me that one of his many gifts was granting wishes.  “Close your eyes and make a wish,” he said.  I played along.

“OK, tomorrow, wake up and think about it.  I will make it come true,” he said in a slur.

I said goodnight to both him and the smiling bartender and went to meet my friends.

I woke up this morning with a smile.

Gotta love the EnWhySee.

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