by Katheryn Donica

Created on: September 27, 2009   Last Updated: September 28, 2009

I was a young woman sitting alone in a bar one night. I scanned the room seeing if perchance a confident, nice looking man might be passing a casual glance in my direction. I saw nothing of interest, anywhere. It looked like another dud kind of night.

As I looked around, there was one very young man, sitting up at the bar, buying rounds for his buddies, probably after a hard day's work. He was oblivious to any women, and that was obvious immediately. It was a guy's night out.

Another guy was literally the one we all hear about drowning his sorrows over what looked like shots of whiskey with a water chaser. Nope, definitely not sexy. But he was definitely sexier than the drunk that kept asking a lovely young woman for her number, and after being told no, would forget, and ask her again, then again, until she picked up her drink and moved elsewhere. I know exactly how she felt. Just that last weekend, a man kept asking me what I did for a living, and after three times, I knew it was time to move on.

I kept scanning the crowded bar for anyone else that looked like someone I might like to strike a conversation up with. My friends were supposed to be there by now, but apparently I was going to be on my own for a while longer. I took another sip of my beer, and waited. Again, I scanned the room. That's when I saw HIM.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I would see next. There he was. He was just entering the room. He wasn't the type that had an open-buttoned shirt and too-tight jeans on, nodding his head at people as IF he knew them, or walking with an arrogant gait that screamed insecurity to those of us that catch on to such types. He wasn't even an Adonis. He was just...sexy.

There was an air of confidence about him, without an ounce of smugness. It was partially the way he was dressed. Nothing special, just a dark shirt, with a leather jacket over it, and a pair of very nice fitting jeans. No, these jeans were tight in all the right places. As he walked up to the bar, he bought his drink and confidently sat down with a group of mostly men, and a couple of women. I wondered immediately if he was taken. I noticed the two women were definitely there with other men, from the way the guys would squeeze them in a kind of ownership shoulder hug.

Finally, my friends arrived, sitting down at the table at just the right time for one of the overworked waitresses to come over to take their orders. All my friends were women, and I wanted to start pointing to the mystery

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