Phan Phreakin' Tastic

Right when I walked through the doorway of the bar, I felt my muscles tense up. As I strolled through the people, I glanced around nervously, scanning the crowd for signs of him. Any small sign that he might be there threw my stomach into a fit of knots. I smoothed my hair, adjusted my bra, and started to search frantically for my lip gloss, but then thought better. He could be watching. Look calm, cool, and collected, I told myself. Breezy, if you will.

I tried to inconspicuously ask around about when he might arrive. Others, sensing my desperation, rolled their eyes and claimed they weren't sure. I tried to be cool, and leaned against the bar very casually. I heard he was coming around 7, I said breezily. More eye rolls, backs turned.

This behavior was rude, but nothing could keep down my excitement. They just didn't understand. I went to the bathroom to check my hair and re-apply lip gloss. Ignoring the bathroom attendant's 'Who is this crazy girl and what is she doing?' looks, I finishing re-application and looked straight at my reflection. I said to myself, without blinking, 'Tonight is the night... The night you will finally meet him... Oh yeah, baby. You're gonna meet... the Phillie Phanatic.'

Not counting the day we beat U of M in football... Best. Day. Ever.