Dancing With the Star

I attended a gala last weekend.

Gilles Marini, the sex-on-a-stick hunk from the first Sex and the City movie was going to be honored there.

Before going, I fantasized about meeting him.

I envisioned the meeting in my head.

It was kinda like the law of attraction.

Because I met him! Almost the same way I pictured it in my mind.

We were at cocktail hour and I saw Gilles from afar. Oo! And he was…

… Sex-on-a-stick all right.

I almost spit up a mini crab cake when I spotted him.

He was even dreamier than he is in the movie and on Dancing With the Stars.

Later on, at the dinner, I saw him taking pictures with some women.

I thought, “Let me get my camera!”

And another woman at my table grabbed me and announced, “We’re gonna meet him!”

I was in.

So we B-lined it over to Gilles, who was glowing on the dance floor.

Snapping pix with this one and that one.

Then, he turned around and looked right at me and said, “Whew!”

I smiled and nuzzled next to him. Unable to breathe.

His arm, around my waist.

Mine around his.

On the outside, I was giggling. But on the inside I was screaming with glee, “Gilles!!!!”

The camera flashed and he was gone.

But it’s three days later and I am still happy.