The Bay Street Diaries

Severine - English-Irish, Chopard Mille Miglia, Banker

We were doomed from the beginning.

All of my relationships were.

I admit, I was out hunting that Thursday night.

He was not my intended prey.

We were at a notorious banker watering hole, my girlfriends and I.

We had just come from a university alumni event.

I had grown tired of the i-banking analyst I was seeing and wanted to have some fun.

I was wearing a navy pencil skirt and a fitted cotton blouse that scooped suggestively down the front.

Nude Stuart Weitzman pumps.

I was dressed to kill.

Growing tired of the conversation with some second-tier consultants we just met, I excused myself and squeezed through the crowd of suits and Prada-toting women towards the bar.

I was in desperate need of another drink.

The patio was packed.

For a few seconds, I was caught between a chain of women migrating through the crowd with linked arms and a group of older men standing near a table.

One of them caught my eye.

Mid-thirties.

Light brown hair.

Medium-build.

Navy suit.

Crisp white shirt.

Powder blue pocket square.

Definitely a douchebag banker.

"Where are you headed in such a hurry?"

"The bar," I responded, slightly annoyed by what seemed like a stupid question.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Who am I to pass up a drink offered by a well-dressed stranger?

We made our way to the bar.

He asked what I would like to drink.

"Gin and tonic, please."

He waved over a busty bartender.

I noticed the steel ring on his right pinky finger.

An engineer's ring.

"Two gin and tonics, Bombay Sapphire with cucumber."

Cucumber? First the pocket square, now the cucumber?

"So what brings you here this evening?"

"I just came from an alumni event."

He asked which university I attended.

Turns out he attended the same one.

For his JD/MBA...

"Impressive, I just did my undergrad there."

As if you didn't already know... Look at how young I am...

Our drinks arrived.

We chatted for a while.

The cucumber was actually a refreshing twist to my usual G&T with lime.

He was an ex-lawyer working as a senior trader at a large Canadian bank.

I tried to calculate his age through the combination of his work experience, his empty ring finger and some fine lines on his forehead.

We had a cigarette together.

He asked to take me out for dinner the following weekend.

"Too bad I'm in NYC this weekend," he said.

Why does this always happen to me?

I told him I had to join my friends.

We exchanged numbers.

After a quick debrief with the girls, I hopped into a cab.

I spent the night with the analyst.

Such a downgrade after spending the evening with an MD.