Imagine this - you sit at a table with a good friend and try to enjoy the sunset and a Diet Coke with lime. All of a sudden a loud voice from behind you says "you need to marry my friend Rob - Rob, here is a pretty young lady - marry her." If you can imagine this scenario we're in business.
I turned around to see a drunk, 60-year-old man with what I assumed was red wine spilled all over his pants. He proceeded to ask me questions about my marital status, living situation and age. Instead of ignoring him out of fear that he might be a mean drunk, I gave polite answers and prayed God would forgive me for lying about the fact that I lived half-way across the country and I had a big, protective boyfriend. But that didn't seem to discourage him.
I tried to carry on my conversation with my friend over dinner but the man just couldn't stop trying to get my attention. "I run Wall Street" he said... when that didn't work it was "P Diddy had a party a few months ago at my house in the Hamptons"... still no positive response and after saying "I'm a millionaire" he stood up, shook my hand and stumbled into the kitchen, followed by 3 hotel bodyguards who then tried to escort him off the premises.
He made threats to sue everyone at the Ritz and after a few minutes one of the bodyguards got impatient and grabbed his arm to take him away...
As he was being dragged through the room to the elevator all he could think of to yell to me as parting words was "Kelly Ripa wants to meet you tomorrow morning - I know her!" He yelled that all the way to the elevators.
Dang it - I never gave him my number. I guess I will never meet Kelly Ripa.