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stay away from the bean dip, but after a couple awkward silences with shy men, I excused myself to the snack table. No sooner had I plopped a spoonful of beans on my paper plate and shoved a tortilla chip in my mouth then Investment Banker Kory approached me. Fantastic-a mouthful of generic party food is a great way to start a conversation.

He smiled at me. A smile that only hot investment bankers who could afford dental work would have. I scanned my brain for a good icebreaker as he poked around at the dip.

I went for it. "The beans are great!"

THE BEANS ARE GREAT? Did I seriously just say that? Oh my gosh no wonder I'm single.

He took a bite. "You're right, they are," he replied, as a slight crumb dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. He tried to catch it as he fell, and blushed at his food blunder. He smiled and apologized.

"I guess I shouldn't talk with my mouth full, especially in front of a pretty girl, huh?" he said.

Immediately I was relieved that he was as awkward and weird as me. We introduced each other and mutually apologized for being the biggest heifers at the party. We chatted for awhile, gradually becoming enamored with each other's stories. Before we knew it, it was nearly two in the morning. People were trickling out, heading home for the night, and the bean dip was near gone.

Kory and I exchanged numbers, and I hopped in a cab and started home. I realized that being awkward and having a poor diet, which usually hindered my game, actually just scored me some digits from a hot investment banker. Hopefully this would be the first and last stag party I would ever have to attend

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