SYDNEY, AU - - Freshly showered and prettied up after a day or two of sunning, I decided to tempt fate and head to an upscale after-work bar around the corner from my apartment (doesn't it sound cool to say I have a Sydney apartment?!?!).
I'm tempting fate because it was at this same bar that I met The Stalker last year. Remember him? The guy who invited me to lunch, changed it to a private meeting at some out-of-the-way place and then when I cancelled, proceeded to call my cell phone 25 times in three days???
Anyway, no Stalker this time. Yay! The bar was filled with men in all forms of business attire, primarily blues, grays and black suits and ties aplenty. My kind of scene! Apparently I'm not alone in my enthusiasm for the clientele as proven by this great line told to me by a lawyer fellow from New Zealand:
"They call this place the Dry Cleaners because girls come here to pick up a suit."
Alas, I left alone.
Must have forgotten my ticket.
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