... I inexplicably had a recurring sex fantasy about a vague memory of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend that tried to hit on me like over two years ago at a pub, but who chickened out of really committing to his pick up line, blushed, clammed up and let his married friend crack jokes with my drunk a$$ until I stumbled off to the dance floor to swing my hips to Missy Elliot and promptly forgot everything except for the fact that some nice-enough dudes had totally been paying attention to me that night.
Why is this interesting? Because thinking about sex is fun, dudes.
Why that guy? No idea. Roll with it.
Everything else about Christmas was good too.