When They're New to this Land...
Sometimes you meet someone and you think oh he's so mysterious, so abrupt, like he can't share too much... that is hot! Or, rude. Wait, no, he's like a spy in James Bond! That's alluring!
Or rude? Well, here's that guy...
We met at the tapas bar in downtown Manhattan. His talky talky cousin was chatting up my very unamused friend. When whoosh! I look up. He is tall and has a clean cut haircut which I will associate with the army when he tells me that his family escaped from war torn Eastern Europe. Hmmm... not usually something that grabs me...
But, we continued to give each other mysterious smiles and okay, here's my phone number.
Nothing happens for a half a year. I know. I know. Ridiculous right?
Hello new person to this country, I know you're really good looking, but in case you failed to notice, it was you who asked for my phone number.
Eventually, he drops by my Halloween party, takes me to his other cousin's restaurant, and then again mysterious immigrant absence. Next he drops by one summer day, when I am the only one home.
He drops by... with his cousin.
I am not discriminatory, but why some people insist on dragging the baggage of excess things like cousins around all the time I will never know. This New York, there's barely space for my shoes.
So, anyway I have mixers, they bring vodka. Vodka is like my older friend who tells me I'm finally cool and then cheers me into doing foolish foolish things.
But, that is not that story.
An hour later, his cousin goes to the bathroom and the intended guest and I end up in my bedroom. A few minutes later, he tells me his cousin is from New Zealand and that apparently Everyone is doing threesomes in New Zealand now.
I decide I am not running a United Nations brothel and tell him he should go.
The hilarious addition to this is that his cousin left his shopping bag in my apartment and had to coordinate with my roommate the next day on how to pick it up. Then he was also denied a threesome. But I do respect the tenacity.