So there's this guy that I met at the Glorious Barcelona pub crawl which, don't worry, details soon to come. He was tall and thin. Not everyone's idea of handsome, but certainly had an "attractive factor" going for him. He had a short stubble of hair on his head with a beard to match. He reminded me like a lot of the guys from Charleston; once they take their hat off: Fun's over. Of course, he no longer paralleled Charleston once he opened his mouth. Not only was the southern draw absent, but his voice was like a sweet nectar, even in English. He had gray blue eyes and lived a 16 minute walk from my host family in Barcelona. At the crawl, I didn't think our conversation would amount to anything, but in drunken excitement, I gave him my WhatsApp number so we could hang out since we were in the same neighborhood essentially. Well, once texting commenced, he invited me to meet him and some friends at this night light show downtown. I was the only girl in a circle of 5 dudes and was loving it. No one in the group's first language is English and I happily submerged myself into the culture buffet. There was an Indian, a Ecuadorian, a Spaniard, and two Argentinians. Our eyes feasted on all the lights and even some of the food trucks. We all got a couple cervezas (beer is one of the 7 Spanish words I know. Surprised? Yeah, me neither). Everyone started to head home 2 by 2, and alas, Mr. Sangria Sips was left. "Hey, catch the bus, no?" "Si! Ohmygosh I can't believe it's already 11:45!" Smiling he said, "and we both wake early. " He gestured to the direction of the bus stop and completely opened up the 30 minutes home. Of course we talked about politics(Europeans love that. *rolls eyes*). I learned he's not into old fashion and believes a city shouldn't always have to buy the meal. His motive for this may be attributed to his last relationship. He revealed a girl from Chile that's an hour away and she would always come see her and pay for all the dates. He knew she enjoyed spending time with him but he was pretty sure she just wanted a green card marriage. Of course they don't call a green card marriage is over here. I don't remember what he called it. It was very Spanish LOL I know, I'm catching on fast. We talked a little bit about music and then a lot about traveling and future plans. Neither one of us had it figured out. That was okay. He revealed He's 33 and guessed I was 26. Like them already. He did though reveal better without my glasses. I don't understand what is up with Europeans and saying that. This is European number four that has said this. Come to think of it, the other guys agreed when we were all at the light show. Well I need these to see, so thanks for that! Way to boost my self-esteem, Europeans! After parting days from the bus that night, we continued texting until 3 am. He scheduled a date at a neighborhood bar later that week. Ofcourse the night of the date, dinner wasn't on time. This actually wasn't fault of my own, the mom just said she wasn't ready yet. And then they have a friend over, so had to wait until her plate was done and I could put everything just watching everything. Remember, being the help requires all kinds of patients in tasks to keep up your free room and board. After spraying a bit of body spray and adding lipstick, I slipped on my boots and headed down to the neighborhood bar. I was so late that the kitchen closed. So, what's a sensible thing for Stephanie to do? Order a pitcher of sangria. I mean, come on; it's fully equipped with fruit! "Oh I'm just going to have another beer," he said. "That's great. I'm getting this for me then," I said smiling. His eyes go to the the size of cantaloupes. You can't drink that whole thing. Oh how he should not have said that! After diving into my dinner, the waiter addressed me and looking dumbfounded, and all together dumb, my date stepped in to translate. Apparently, he wanted to know if the drink was yoo sweet and if he should add more alcohol. I'm sorry- who in their right mind would decline that?! After he topped the pitcher off, my date poured himself a glass. The conversation bounced from topic to topic and I began to feel very warm. Biting into an orange peel, I laughed at his joke. I think it was a joke. Thank God I was walking. After closing the bar down (it closed at 12 because it was simply a neighborhood one and not in the thriving city, we walked to the counter to close out. He had me pay for the tab and he gave me cash for his meal. Yet he drank some (no clue how many glasses) of my sangria and I paid for the whole thing. Dudeeee. He warned me he was like that but I thought at least on the first date he would want.... I don't know. But the part that got me was he kept chatting me the next day and begged me to come to his flat to have two beers that he has in his fridge. Obviously I'd only get one. And it's like 18 minute walk. Anything after 10:30 is work for the dirty So, I stayed home and wrote off ankther guy. Different country, different guy, same ending.
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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