Earlier this week, I noticed my co-worker knocking on the window of my studio door. I motioned for her to come in.

"Sandy- are you going to Music in the Park on Thursday?" She asked, smiling.

"Yeah- I'm hosting. Why?" I asked.

"Well I just wanted to give you a head's up that a certain someone's going to be there…." She said.

"A certain someone?" I asked.

I paused, and thought. Was it someone I know? Someone I should know?

"Yeah…remember last year?" She asked, taunted me. Suddenly it clicked.

"Oh…..HIM," I said. Allow me to explain.

"Him" is actually Oliver- a client of ours. A very, very gorgeous client that works for a Bay Area music marketing company. I'll never forget the day that same coworker- a beautiful, always-put-together saleswoman, toted him around the office and introduced him to everyone. You'd have thought George Clooney walked right in and made direct eye contact with every longing, hopeful female there.

Hell, it was hard not to make eye contact with him. His green eyes were bright, evoking, and fantastic. His smile was sweet and non-threatening. His hair…oh his hair. I'm a sucker for dudes with cute hair, and his light brown locks really did a number on me. To top it off, he was nicely dressed, and for a "clean-cut" guy he had a certain ruggedness that caused my knees to buckle. To this day, I don't think anyone more attractive has ever walked through the studio doors.

That summer, my company- along with numerous sponsors, music acts, and about 10,000 civilians- were celebrating "Metro's Music in the Park"– a 20 year tradition of free concerts in downtown San Jose. I was there; as was Oliver. Damn- he looked good.

I had just finished bringing the second band on-stage when he started walking towards me. OH. MY. GOD. Allow me to elaborate what goes on in the female mind when someone gorgeous walks our way:

"Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. How's my hair? Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap."

"Hey Sandy- how are you?" He asked. There was that smile again. SHIT.

"Good, good!" I said, nervously. My mind was racing.

What is he doing here?
Is he looking for someone?
How do I look?
Is my makeup okay?
Do I look fat?
He doesn't really want to talk to me….does he?

For the next 10 minutes, we stood next to each other behind the stage, resting our elbows on the steel table below. We started talking about the bands, his move from the Midwest to California, my stand-up comedy and online stalkers, and then it dawned on me:

"Holy shit- I'm talking to the hot guy."

Not just a hot guy. The hot guy. The one all the women wanted. The one who stood out from a crowd based on bang-ability alone. And I was talking to him!

"Hey- you want to get a drink or something? I have all these free coupons and I need to use them up." I asked.

"Sure!" he responded, enthusiastically.

OH. MY. GOD. We were going to hang out! Granted, in normal situations one would call this "networking" or "schmoozing." But for me…..it was a date. It was our first date. And I was even incorporating a coupon! My parents would be so proud.

So, we walked. We walked and talked, side by side. And all I could think was,

"Holy crap…..I've got the hottest guy in the place…."

I felt like I pimp. Like someone who wears a purple fur coat and calls them self "Sex Juice." Oh, to be a man-whore!

We walked past my co-workers. I could feel them judging. Wait- is Sandy hanging out with the hot guy? Out of all the women here- Sandy's got him?!? How'd she get that dude?

"Yep, that's right bitches. I've got him." I thought, defensively. "I'm funny, smart, talented, hard working, and yeah- I've got a hot guy next to me. Because I DESERVE A HOT GUY."

Sure, it was over the top. But that was my ego talking. And hell, he was the sexiest arm-candy I ever had. I at least wanted to enjoy it.

After standing in line for 10 minutes, Oliver and I walked away with beer, wine, and two slices of pesto pizza from Pizza-My-Heart. I knew I wouldn't be full after one slice- but I kept my mouth shut as not to spoil the fantasy. We plopped down on the grass nearby, and chilled out for 20 minutes. It was awesome. I completely forgot I was at "work." I don't even know if the conversation was that good, to tell you the truth. I just knew that it felt so redeeming to get attention from someone hot that I didn't care. Sadly, the night was coming to an end. More "chick" thoughts came into my head.

Will I ever see him again?
Does he like me?
Will he remember me tomorrow?
Do I look fat?

Before I went on-stage for the last official announcement, we exchanged cards. He told me he really wanted to come to my comedy show the next week. Ah….sealing the deal. SCORE.

He introduced me to his co-worker and mentioned they were heading over to a local bar and wanted to buy me a drink.

"Cool- I'll just meet you guys in a few minutes?" I asked, nervously.

"Alright cool. We'll wait for you there." he said, smiling.

I was giddy. I didn't plan on meeting anyone- let alone someone like this! I was about to pack up my stuff at the Mix booth when my co-worker approached me.

"Hey Sandy….I saw you talking to Oliver tonight," She said, grinning.

"I know! He's really nice and is going to come to one of my comedy shows!" I said with pride.

"Sandy- he's married." She said.

"What?"

"Yeah- he's married. His friend was talking to me and told me he was married. Him and his wife live together on the Peninsula." She instructed.

I felt like an idiot. Was he really just schmoozing me the whole time? Was I just that "radio girl" he wanted to get on his good side? What about his arm on my shoulder and the kiss on the cheek? Was I just imagining all that?

"But he wasn't wearing a ring!" I sad, crushed.

She stared at me. "Well, I just wanted to let you know cause I saw you were making plans, and I wanted you to be on the up and up." She said.

"No, no- thank you. I appreciate you telling me." I said, gathering my thoughts. "I'm going to go home. I can't see him again tonight- I'll be too pissed."

She understood, and I went home.

Fast forward to exactly a year later- July 24th, 2008. I was, once again, hosting the show at Music in the Park. I was about to go on-stage and announce the 2nd band, Dusty Rhodes and the River Band. As I was reading my notes, amidst a flurry of band members and tech crew frantically running around me, someone brushed up against me.

"Hey- how you doing?" A 30-something, somewhat attractive man asked me.

I had no idea who he was. More importantly I was curious on why he chose to stand within 2 inches of me. Confused, I blurted out,

"I'm good. Busy but good! How are you?"

"Can't complain, can't complain," He said, smiling. And there it was: the smile.

It was Oliver. One year later, and still no ring.

He was wearing jeans, a white long-sleeve dress shirt and plaid vest. A plaid vest! What kind of dude wears two of the worst fashion statements combined into ONE GARMENT? What was worse is that he still looked attractive! He was like a modern-day fuckable Peter Pan. How annoying.

Still, I felt uncomfortable talking to him. What was the point? He was lying, or at least living a lie, and I wasn't about to be his 20-something ego-boost for the 2nd time. I excused myself and immediately found my co-worker who initially introduced us.

"Oh my God- guess who I just talked to?" I asked her.

"Who? Oliver?" She asked.

"Yep!" I boasted. "Funny- he's still totally vague about his personal life."

"Did he give you the old stand-by? 'Can't complain, can't complain!'" She said, laughing.

We went into hysterics. At this point, it was comical.

"You know, Sandy- I've known him for 2 years and he has never once mentioned he's married, or has a wife." She added.

"I know dude- he did that with me too" I said. "He talked all about his move from the Midwest to California , as if he did it all by himself. Yet his website says he is 'married' and came here 'with his wife.'"

We were quiet, for a moment.

"So do you feel weird about it?" She asked.

"No, not at all." I said, smiling. "I just wish I could get my Pizza-My-Heart coupon back."