Monday, January 23, 2012

Sean P Diddy (Puff Daddy?) Combs

or whatever his name is, officially hit on me.

So I was heading out of this audition in midtown (aka I was looking much more put together than usual, hair done, makeup appropriately sexy) and there was this guy in a suit walking toward me. There was also a menacing, incredibly large gentleman close behind him, and I was almost concerned that Guy #1 was about to get mugged.

Low and behold Guy #1 sees me and says (I paraphrase and may misspell): "Dayuum gurl you look foine, what's your name?"

In characteristically New Yorker fashion, I respond: "Thanks, sorry gotta go, have a nice night!" and flee into nearest subway station.

At which point, my friend says, "Whoa. That was Sean P Diddy Combs."

A myriad of responses, spanning the gamut from "yikes" to "whoops" to "should I leave the subway now and ask him to go for a drink?" followed.

In any case, here I am back in the warm cocoon of my quirky little Upper East Side apartment, feeling pretty good about that yoga class I took today.

The little things in life, people. The little things.

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