A near-goosing

Yesterday I worked a 12-hour day, putting on a huge fundraising event for work. Event planning is not my thang, but somehow it became that way. It's kinda like the town drunk filling in for the gynecologist for a day. Today I am exhausted and kicking myself for not making the moves on the Mayor while I had my chance. I mean, there I was standing right next to him admiring his tall, slender shellackedness and successfully resisting all inappropriate impulses.

He wasn't getting as starfucked as I expected him too, but then again he wasn't there for more than a 1/2 hour and with more than 200 goobersmoochers packed into the room, it wasn't easy to snake over and get some face time. Though the guy with the patchy haircut in this photo was obviously slick enough. Dude, stop cutting your own hair! Speaking of hair, how can one not mention the Mayor's hair whilst admiring him? Gavin's 'do was much less greezy looking last night than normal. Perhaps while preparing for the event he found himself unfortunately down to his last swab of gel? Oh sorry...pomade. Or maybe it was that the sunny rays beaming into the room absorbed light, rather than reflecting. Or maybe because it was an evening event, his daily supply had worn down. Doesn't he reapply!?!? Either way, I was star struck and I still am.

As you can see in this photo, I was cursed with both a shaky hand, bad lighting, and obvious stalking. But still, it's almost as if he was looking RIGHT AT ME. He was giving me his "come hither and be my stand-in girlfriend for the night" look. Am I right or am I right?

"Stop shaking and get over here, UncleWendy," the Mayor didn't say.