Well, not for me, but I’m sure there’s a lucky girl somewhere out there getting ready for a romantic evening with a very special someone.
After this week, though, I’m starting to feel like all hope is not lost for this prospect-less second semester senior trapped in the Midwest’s tiniest town. Nothing like spending Wednesday night dancing with a few under-21 dudes to reassure me that yes, I am still considered a good target for creepy grinding. (Actually, I think this one guy who just came up behind me and got going was a little taken aback when I turned around and made him shake my hand and tell me his name first. At the end of the night he told me my necklace was “cute.” Has no problem accosting me without warning on the dance floor but is thoughtful enough to compliment my accessories? Who is this guy? I don’t get it.) Anyway, as Lou Bega wisely said in the immortal hit “Mambo No. 5,” “To me flirting is just like a sport”—and it never hurts to get a little exercise, right?
I’ll head you off on the weekend with a few quirkily romantic postcards from my personal hoard of favorite PostSecrets.