1811. Almost Carried Away

This is another story that's just too unusual not to share - even before it makes its way into poetry:

Last night as I was leaving a networking event with a group of friends, a man I don't know picked me up, not figuratively or metaphorically, but rather, actually, he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me from the floor. The man had grabbed my hand as I walked toward the door and expressed some anguish at not having talked to me before. After that, he asked my name, and in the usual professional credentials exchange, I volunteered that I've founded a company to build iphone, online, and social networking applications and have previously worked in enterprise software marketing organizations. That was all I said, and it prompted quite an outsized reaction. Next thing I knew, I was airborne in a big, unexpected hug with my feet dangling a foot above the floor. For some reason, some men instinctively feel they want to just kiss me spontaneously or carry me off with them within 5 minutes of our first meeting, which as you can imagine, for me, can be disconcerting. Even stranger than this singular occasion is that this type of thing has happened to me not just once - but twice or three times - including once at a business networking event for the San Francisco American Marketing Association. Fortunately for me, yesterday evening, another man saw what happened and came to my rescue. My rescuer stood patiently observing the other man, who was so enraptured that he promised to join my networking group in order to see me again; happily, my rescuer got me quickly and safely to my car. Having seen this incident, my friends' eyes were understandably wide with disbelief - as were mine. I'm still shocked from it. Perhaps strangest of all, these men are not on the surface freaks or ne'er do wells on the streets. These are businessmen just released from long days of meetings - mostly sober except for what appears to be their instantaneous intoxication from meeting me. It's not what I was wearing as that was normal fare of a conservative tan top, black knee-length skirt, and high heels. Truth certainly is stranger than fiction.