Me, A Slurpee, and Mr. Right

It happened last night. I was on my way home after an exhausting evening of buying shoes when I felt the need for a Slurpee. I stopped at the 7-11 on 3rd Avenue and proceeded to purchase said Slurpee when suddenly I heard, "Aren't you Basil von Klapp's daughter?"

I spun around and there he was: Mr. Right! Yes! The same Mr. Right that I met at my family's annual Holiday Party and the same Mr. Right that I saw getting into a cab on 5th Avenue last month. Actually, it was exactly a month to day from the time I saw him getting into the cab until I saw him last night.

I replied, "Yes, who are you?" in an effort to be coy and, most of all, to find out his name! Just then, his cell phone rang. His face was more serious as he looked at the caller ID, and he said "I'll be right back."

And then he left! And he didn't come back! I stayed in the 7-11 for an hour and consumed three Slurpees, but he never came back.

Worst of all: I still don't know his name.

The Right Stuff

It happened Saturday afternoon. I was shopping with my frumpy sister Lunesta. We were strolling down 5th Avenue after checking out Abercrombie & Fitch (the staff is hot) when I saw him. It was Mr. Right, the guy I met at my family's holiday party. He was getting into a cab, and I only saw him for an instant, but I know it was him. Where did he go? Will I see him again?

In Search Of... Mr. Right

You may remember last week at my parents' lavish holiday party, I met a mystery man who I will refer to as "Mr. Right." Sadly, I didn't get a chance to get his number (or even his name). I have a hunch that he works for my father's adult diaper incontinence product manufacturing company, so I went to the office today to snoop. I searched high and low, but he was nowhere to be found. So, the question is: if he doesn't know my father from work, where does he know him from? And more important: will I ever bump into him again???

Meeting Mr. Right

The stars came out in Manhattan on Saturday as the annual von Klapp Holiday Party took place in my parents' Upper West Side apartment. Here are some juicy tidbits:

What actress ditched the premiere of her new film in order to attend our party?

What actor attempted to convince my dowdy sister Lunesta to convert to Scientology?

I'll never tell....

Linus, my agent, arrived around 10:00pm with news that I might be up for a part in a fast food commercial. Fast food? Is this some kind of homage to Paris Hilton's hamburger commercial a few years ago? I was not pleased!

Around 11:30pm, a drunken Lunesta stumbled into the living room to see if "Saturday Night Live" was live or a repeat (to which I replied, "There's a writers strike, you drunken whore!"). Just then, I looked over the fondue pot and saw HIM. Tall, dark wavy hair, almond shaped dreamy eyes, pillowy soft lips... Standing on the other side of the fondue pot was Mr. Right! I felt flush as I tried to see who he was with. Was he with a date? Was his date prettier than me? My father approached him and they began talking. Did he work for my father's adult diaper incontinence product manufacturing company? I had to know! I had to know! I walked over to where they were and waited for my father to introduce us. When my father finally got around to introducing us, he simply said “Meet my daughter Cymbalta.” Mr. Right said to him, "Basil you never told me you had such a beautiful daughter." He called me beautiful! In what will go down in history as the worst timing ever, Lunesta ran past us, hand over mouth, in search of a bathroom to vomit in. When everyone stepped aside and out of Lunesta’s path, Mr. Right was gone. And neither he nor my father said his name. My parents were occupied playing the perfect host and hostess for the rest of the night, and when I called them on Sunday afternoon to ask my father who Mr. Right was, he said that there were so many people at the party he had no idea who I was talking about!

My New Years resolution: Find Mr. Right!!!