The Rise and Fall (and Rise Again) of the Harvard Empire

I finagled myself out of work and into a girls night with K last night. K, is one of those girlfriends that I instantly knew was a soul mate. We met about a year ago and after several girl talk sessions in her hot tub (and more than a few bottles of wine) we became fast friends. She helped me through my breakup, and I've been listening as she gushes about the love of her life (we'll call him Mr. Big), who she hasn't managed to tell that she likes. Even though, let's be honest, they both know it! Luckily, Mr. Big hasn't been around the Bean lately, which has been doing wonders for her sex life. I'm a little envious of the fact that she has three dates in the next four days. Needless to say, I've been meaning to give her a swift slap on the ass and a big ol' "atta girl".

Aside from that, she's an event planner, and we've been to god knows how many events together this past year. The most recent was Sumeria, which is where I happened to meet Harvard. So, before the entire first season of Sex and the City, our massive amounts of Haribo candy, and what seemed like a very spiritual reading of Cosmo, I had to tell her about my Harvard escapade.

Girl's Night Essentials

Note: This is not my first experience with a Harvard man. Apparently, somewhere inside me (my ass presumably) there is a magnet for Harvard grads. While the idea of dating a Crimson was always appealing to me in the early years of college (on those nights where I would go to the best final club of the moment in hopes of landing my next victim), I hadn't really thought about it since I broke up with my ex. Funny enough, the very first guy who I hooked up with after my breakup ended up being a South African, Harvard alumni, who was on the rowing team, and was now an engineer for a company in Cambridge. Yes ladies, he is as good as he sounds. Unfortunately, you can't get your paws on him, he's taken now.

So back to Sumeria. K and I arrived in style with a group of our girlfriends (S and C were there as well), and it's safe to say, we started out the night with a few drinks. More like 8. But that's neither here nor there. At some point in the night, K used her event planning ways to get us up to the DJ booth. From there I spotted a tall blond with a smile that could melt Antarctica, who I made my mission for the evening. I waved to K, and told her that was who I would be hanging out with for the rest of the night. She pointed out the slightly anorexic looking girl he was dancing with, and told me it looked like he came with a date. And I was supposed to care about this because...? 

So while K was up in the booth flirting with one of the other event planners, I shimmied my way down the steps and through the crowd. Before I knew it, I was directly behind Harvard. I grabbed his hand, made eye contact and walked away. So casual. Five minutes later he was knocking down my dance space, and I figured then was as good a time as any to introduce myself. Well, the introduction soon led to making out, which led to making a very swift decision to not end the night there. In the Uber ride back to his place, he told me a little about his background (including that he went to Harvard, which I didn't care to believe at the time). I'm pretty sure I responded with, "Oh yeah, and I'm Kate Middleton." Lucky for me, sarcasm was also his first language and we got along swimmingly for the rest of the ride.

As soon as we were through the front door at his place, it was all over. We had the kitchen counter christened within the first five minutes, and I hadn't even taken my shoes off yet. His California king, tempurpedic bed served as the playground for the rest of the evening, where we managed three rounds and about an hour of decent conversation. 3:00AM struck and I knew it was about time to head out of there and back home. Harvard didn't like this idea and convinced me to stay until at least 7:00. So I did, with one stipulation: "You cuddle with me, I'm out of here." He laughed and obliged.

7:00AM rolled around and I scurried to find my clothes and get out of there. I went into the bedroom, kissed him on the forehead and thanked him for a fun night. As I was almost out of dodge, I heard him say "Wait, you don't even want to know my last name or my phone number?"

"Not really," I replied. Seriously, can't a girl just leave her emotions at the door every once and a while? Knowing that I had hurt Harvard's ego, I followed up with, "Is this your convoluted way of asking me for my number?"

"Yes," he said. So, with that, I grabbed his phone, plugged in my digits, and hightailed it out of there. And now, the rest is history.


Laughing at the balls I apparently grew that fateful morning, K slipped me a high five and a handful of chocolate covered gummy bears. Yes... this was going to be a good girl's night.

Til next time,

A Babe In Boston