Date Night
On Sunday morning, I broke up with Fouad, perhaps because I hadn’t yet this month. I spent the rest of the day crying and questioning my decision.
I met Caroline for a drink that afternoon, and she felt it was her responsibility to babysit me so I didn’t call him back. So I had dinner with her, Jirka, and Petr, and I watched two episodes of Project Runway at her apartment. Mission accomplished, Caroline.
Monday morning, I sent her an SMS to say that I was feeling weak and might call Fouad, and then I phoned him before receiving Caroline’s “NO! DON’T DO IT!” response.
I had to call three times, before I could get him to say much, and then he told me that he hated me. 30 minutes later, he sent an SMS to ask if I wanted to meet him later. I said I couldn’t because I had Czech lessons.
Yesterday, I had a date with an American guy. He wanted to meet me before his 7:00 birthday party, but I was running late, so I ended up at the party, getting introduced to all of his closest friends-almost all female, gorgeous, and kissed excitedly by my date. He introduced the only other man at the party as “the most posh, effeminate heterosexual man you’ll ever meet-except for me.”
The other guy didn’t seem effeminate at all, but maybe I would’ve felt otherwise if I hadn’t been with my date, who was clearly one of the girls. I wondered if it was part of an act, because it did allow him to do a lot of groping and fondling (of the other women, not me) that he probably wouldn’t have been entitled to if he seemed completely straight.
Anyway, I felt strange and wondered if it was ruder for me to be at this party to which I wasn’t really invited or to leave in the middle of it. I hung around for about an hour and then left.
I called Fouad, and he came by my apartment and spent the night.
I met Caroline for a drink that afternoon, and she felt it was her responsibility to babysit me so I didn’t call him back. So I had dinner with her, Jirka, and Petr, and I watched two episodes of Project Runway at her apartment. Mission accomplished, Caroline.
Monday morning, I sent her an SMS to say that I was feeling weak and might call Fouad, and then I phoned him before receiving Caroline’s “NO! DON’T DO IT!” response.
I had to call three times, before I could get him to say much, and then he told me that he hated me. 30 minutes later, he sent an SMS to ask if I wanted to meet him later. I said I couldn’t because I had Czech lessons.
Yesterday, I had a date with an American guy. He wanted to meet me before his 7:00 birthday party, but I was running late, so I ended up at the party, getting introduced to all of his closest friends-almost all female, gorgeous, and kissed excitedly by my date. He introduced the only other man at the party as “the most posh, effeminate heterosexual man you’ll ever meet-except for me.”
The other guy didn’t seem effeminate at all, but maybe I would’ve felt otherwise if I hadn’t been with my date, who was clearly one of the girls. I wondered if it was part of an act, because it did allow him to do a lot of groping and fondling (of the other women, not me) that he probably wouldn’t have been entitled to if he seemed completely straight.
Anyway, I felt strange and wondered if it was ruder for me to be at this party to which I wasn’t really invited or to leave in the middle of it. I hung around for about an hour and then left.
I called Fouad, and he came by my apartment and spent the night.