Me and my best girlfriend have an ongoing joke about our ability to pick up men in our pajamas. Maybe it's because men see you in pajamas and correlate that with you going to bed. And it's some sort of sexual connotation for them. Either way, it never ceases to amaze me. And really has me questioning the countless hours I spend on hair/makeup/outfit selection when I have amazing luck in nothing more than gym shorts and an over-sized t-shirt. Let me explain.
Last week I was sent to Nashville by my amazing music store to attend the bi-annual NAMM convention (National Association for Music Merchants). I have never been to Nashville. In fact, I have never been on a business trip. So I was elated to find I would have my own room, and once the seminars were over, and the show room closed for the day, that we would be free to gallivant around the city. Now, I am particularly lucky because I happen to love the company of my coworkers. So most evenings were spent sharing stories of our pasts and hopeful futures over many glasses of red wine (and to my surprise cinnamon whiskey shots). But I am younger than my coworkers, by a bit, so when they retired for the evening - I found myself in the hotel bar waiting for wine to be purchased for me by handsome business men.
I had great success on the first night. Meeting a very nice young man from Alabama who was in town with his family business that crafted violins, cellos, basses, and ukuleles. We talked over some drinks and did some kissing. But I kept it PG. I tucked myself into bed shortly thereafter and figured I would see what I could muster up on day two.
Night two was equally as successful, though I spent most of the evening talking to a married man - still willing to buy me a couple - and who was incredibly interesting. I felt satisfied with that exchange. It doesn't always have to be a hot and heavy makeout session, I told myself. And just as I was getting ready to leave, the nice boy from night one came down to the bar, very obviously looking for me. I debated, for a very brief moment, continuing the evening with him. But decided against it. I told both of my captive male audience at that point that I needed to rest, and that I would see them both on the floor tomorrow at the show.
Look at you, Keller. Way to not be too slutty on a business trip. I got into my room, feeling proud, and changed into my pajamas. I determined I should smoke just one last cigarette before bed, so I went down to the front entrance of the hotel to ensure I didn't run into either boys from earlier in the trip. I was sitting on the ground, back against the wall with headphones on. Let me reiterate for those who aren't following - I was in blue cotton gym shorts and an oversized Oswego High School baseball shirt. I was clearly making no effort to socialize with my headphones on, and was actively avoiding eye contact with anyone outside the hotel at what was now 1am. At that moment a very handsome man stepped out of the backseat of a town car, and headed towards the revolving door before catching my eye. Dammit.
I shyly pulled one of the ear-buds out of my ear to hear a warm greeting sent in my direction. Next thing I know, handsome business man is sitting down next to me, on the concrete ground, asking me about who I am, where I work, what I am doing in town. Most the conversation was muted by my consuming thoughts of how my face must look without any makeout, and how apparent my cellulite is in these shorts. Handsome business man was unfazed. Next thing I know we are kissing. Next thing I know we discover we are both on the 3rd floor. Next thing I know I am slammed up against a wall in the elevator. I was in my PAJAMAS FOR CHRIST SAKE.
Now, I can still carry my less-slutty head tall and proud, for I did not sleep with handsome business man. We fooled around a bit, he was an excellent kisser. And eventually I was more tired than I was turned on and escorted him to the door. We exchanged business cards, and a kiss goodnight and with that I had no intention of ever seeing or hearing from him again.
But I've been home for a few days now, and I got curious. So I pulled out his business card and punched his name into the ol' google search. Imagine my surprise to find this guy all over the fucking internet. He is the CEO of a company, that I shall not name, that manufactures guitars. His company has won an obscene amount of grant money to move forward with their products, and he has been listed in many financing magazines for top young entrepreneurs. He is just as handsome in picture as I remember him being in person. Oh, and did I mention he was the CEO of this ridiculously profitable company? I think I should have slept with him. Waited it out a few months, then made a phone call claiming I was pregnant and tried to get hush money. That’s terrible. I don’t mean that. I kind of don’t mean that. I really don’t mean that.
What’s the point of my story here? Is it nothing more than wanting to brag some more about my sexual prowess and ability to pick up men all over this great country of ours? Mainly. But it is also just as fascinating to know that my luck with men is not limited to a little black dress, stilettos, and perfectly polished hair. CEO spent most of the night complimenting my quick wit, beautiful eyes and kissing ability anyways. So ladies, take a hint from Chelsea and I. Wash off the makeup, throw on your sweats, and just be comfortable. Men are going to come and get it anyways.
