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Step into the glamorous world of Flare Magazine – a timeless treasure that echoes with memories of sophistication and style. Cast your mind back to the golden year of 2009, when Flare hosted an unforgettable soirée at the illustrious ROM. Oh, those were the days, and if you recall them vividly, chances are you possess a wealth of wisdom and are fabulously over 40!
Picture this: the night was adorned with opulence, as Flare commemorated a momentous occasion that would leave a lasting impression on the fashion world. Meanwhile, in the midst of life’s twists and turns, I found myself recently separated, and the opportunity couldn’t have been more perfect. The kids were lovingly cared for by their doting grandparents, creating the ideal moment for me to indulge in a night of splendour.
And did I ever.
Exquisite cocktails flowed freely. Maybe a bit too freely. Cute hors d’oeuvres were passed around. (why are the mini sliders always cold?). Life was great!
"I already told you..... Simon."
At some point my bestie and I grew tired of watching mannequin-like women strut around with lipstick so red hot it’d start a fire. We peaced out and made our way to Hemingway’s, an extremely popular pub in Toronto, in search of fresh meat not dresed in a tux. We sidled up to the bar, feeling no pain from the fabulous Gala and started to size up the room. Necks started snapping almost immediately towards the entrance as we watched 8 fully uniformed Canadian Army guys walk into the bar. I repeat. 8 fully uniformed gorgeous army guys, walking in with authority.

One of the taller guys walks over to me and my bestie and strikes up a convo. It was innocent at first, for about 15 seconds. He introduced himself as Simon and asked if we were into threesomes. My bestie said, in her thick Chicago accent with a little cobra action, “Oh no…. no no no. I don’t go that way.” Simon looked at me and I said, “I do.”
In one of the greatest lines ever, Simon then says, “Well Simon says you’re going to sleep with me tonight.”
Bold.
I liked it. We hopped a cab (no Uber in 2009) and hurried back to my place.