So, a little known fact that has come to a forefront recently is that having (lots of) sex makes me unbelievably famished. Like, crazy “28 Days Later” zombie famished… I don’t know why, I’m sure it has something to do with brain pleasure centers and exercise and such things.
Yesterday, I was simply going to have a leisurely evening (since I’m still wiped from last week’s activities), but I got an email from Lino.
Soooo, I may have totally stood “Lino” up on Saturday night, by not going to Chalet (yet another disco) with him, and then ignoring his text messages.
Today when he emailed, I felt very guilty about it, so when he invited me over for a coffee, I relented…and then went. Now, first of all, I was VERY proud of myself for speaking nearly entirely in Italian, without my trusty dictionary. Granted, it is still pidgin Italian, and I say simple things like “I have a sister. She is 26. The chair is blue. This drink is good.” After a good hour of chatting, of course, I knew full well what “having coffee” meant…and after the coffee (and 2/3 of a bottle of Martini Vermouth, which is drunk straight here, not as a mixer), I decided to get down to business. At last! An Italian that can kiss (amongst other things). And it was so sweet of him to lay out all of my clothes for me on the bed while I was taking a shower, but, I wasn’t done. Perhaps one of the reasons I get so hungry is that I can’t do it only once. Especially if it’s just a possible one night stand. Who knows how long it will be until the next one? So I shoved my clothes to the floor…..
[4 hours later]
Ok, so Lino was very cute, and sweet, and even the fact that it’s apparently a requirement to take a shower after each and every time is cute. But, it is also 2:45 AM on a Sunday night, and I must take my walk of shame (um, a good 1.5 miles of shame) towards my bed and my trusty Tylenol PM.
Lo and Behold! It’s the 1870 Huntsman Pub! Bless you baby jesus! I’m not proud of it, but I may have spent a good wad of money on a delicious American-style cheeseburger, two helpings of french fries, two pints of Guinness, and some weird chocolaty dessert. Then, I walked all the way home in the moonless night, to my darkened apartment, full of both yummy greasy food… and a yummy greasy experience overall….