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International Playboy

I shall summarize: Company party. My sea-green-ballgown-clad date and I were every bit the smash I expected we would be. Clearly the best-dressed little fashionistas in the place.

We both shared a little moment of staring at my CEO's very nice ass, which was great fun. Then later, she stripped for him and he took pictures. I am so not even joking.

I threw some meat on the floor. She threw some crust into the bookshelves. Both events were, ostensibly, accidental.

As for the Great Gift Swap, I ended up with the Golf Gift Set: A kickin' mousepad with a golf course scene, and a gigantic mouse that looks like a chopped-in-half golf ball. "This has to be from the I.T. guy. Nobody else would have bought that," I observe. Yes, I was right. Happily, he wrapped the present in the plastic bag Radio Shack gave him to carry it around in, and, doubly happily, left the receipt inside too. I now have a full world of Radio-Shack-related options open to me.

Later, meeting up with Shiv and Finn, et al, I sauntered around in my finery and played the independently wealthy badass, at one point marching up to the bar and imperiously announcing that I would like that bottle of Veuve Clicquot and five glasses, chilled, and yes, charge it on this, thank you. I have been riding off the high I got from that amount of decadence for days.

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This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on December 16, 2002 11:48 AM.

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