mr. e came to town. a genuinely likable person, who has a thousand stories, an impish grin, a tall and lanky figure and almost white teeth. me like. being with him is like being slowly marinated in an alcohol and laughter mixture, spiced here and there with sadness about past relationships and history lectures. the guy really knows his history.
he is surprised to see the fraying at the seams his old buddies show here in NY, and flabbergasted at the idea that he can go home at 4 in the morning instead of the customary 8. how dare we even suggest it? but home we go, after valiantly making it through one home get together, a barbecue and two quiet cafes that only carry vodka and red wine. and of course the promise that morning will bring forth the last of that wonderful gray goose bottle and that garden made raki.
we sit and talk and generally detox our brains while slowly intoxicating our bodies. my mind is playing games of what if, as usual making the decision on attraction and overriding the hormones. i wonder why my libido works so weird, liking a joke as much or even better than a tight tush, and not minding slightly yellow teeth on a smart mouth. as the day progresses, so does the attraction, until i finally have to do something about it. so i drink a little bit more of the fiery clear liquid, and take care not to slur my words or give in to slumber. the drink takes the edge of the desire, but it is not so much that i cannot see the limits i must not cross.
mind the limits please! my crush sits right next to me, a handsome man with a shrinking belly, snoring so prettily. he’s fallen asleep, the big baby. the rest of us sit silently in the sidewalk cafe, slowly draining the glasses, watching the world turn light and waiting for the waitress to finally kick us off the table. she does not show, so i guess she does not want to go home either. one of those dawns.