The truth: Sat on couch with roommate pouting, watching gawky-teenager-turned-princess-of-false-European-Nation flick. In bed shortly after 11.
Story that J will never hear: Oh, you didn't call? I didn't think you would and I was looking WAY too good to sit home and wait for a call that wouldn't come. So, put on dancing shoes and headed out with gal pals to uppity downtown spot. Usually do hate those ex Harvard Business School sycophants, but so long as said men just sit there and look pretty (as well as dance), then are not so bad. Hmmm...could swear was wearing earrings at some point last night... Anyway, had the best time. Probably should not have had so much to drink, because don't remember getting there, but somehow ended up at amazing south end loft. Personally, have not seen a hot tub that big since spring break in Fort Lauderdale. But boy, was certainly no problem filling it last night. Must have gotten over-heated, because next thing that can remember is waking up on v. soft, black leather couch wearing man robe and one spikey-heeled shoe, thinking, "Where is my roommate?" Don't worry -- found clothes v. easily and was taken home by nice smelling financial genius in BMW before the cocaine really got out of hand. V. thoughtful of him, right? Glad he handed over his card, too... will be v. helpful when comes to doing taxes.