Don Quixote has actually fallen out of my favor, shall we say. My friend Cecilia, who was playing double agent by getting the scoop from him and reporting back to me, asked if I wanted her to give him my phone number. I told her she could give it to him if he asked for it, but not to push it. And I meant it. He didn't ask for it. I didn't too much care. Don Quixote was just... fun.
On Saturday, Don Quixote had people over to his tiny flat for his birthday. My friends and I were invited, so we all went. The last time I had seen him was in his tiny flat, when he showed me out the door while he was stark naked. This time, though, he was fully clothed when he answered the door. It wasn't awkward or anything, and while I had shaved my legs (just in case), it wasn't long before I realized that I really didn't want to be spending the night again at his place. The flat had an odor to it that I hadn't noticed last Saturday night. Then again, so did Don Quixote. It was a bachelor odor. Sweat and alcohol and a lack of fresh air. It wasn't a turn on.
But it wasn't just the odor. There was something about Don Quixote that I just wasn't feeling as much as last Saturday. Then he got sloppy drunk and kind of obnoxious, and my view of him really went down.
But not all is lost. Between the time that I realized I didn't want to hook up with Don Quixote again and his obnoxious drunkenness, I met Luigi, the Italian. He was friendly and funny and (even better!) he thought I was funny. And he was kind of downright adorable. Or, as my friend Amelie put it, he's "not too ugly." He's not ugly at all, but she's French, and they are a very negative people. To them, "not too ugly" is probably one of the highest compliments. (Luckily, he had only met Don Quixote about two days prior to this through a mutual friend so it's not as if they're BFFs.)
Finally, it was time to leave Don Quixote's stinky apartment and go out. I asked Luigi if he was joining, but he said he was due at someone else's birthday party about 3 hours earlier. He might want to join up with us later though, so he asked for my phone number. You know, in case he wanted to meet up with us later.
We managed to ditch the drunken Don Quixote and his drunk Spanish posse by ducking into a random bar, which seemed great until we looked around and realized the average age of everyone around us was approximately 18. We tried somewhere else, but we had lost the motivation to be out, so decided to head to the tube... just as Luigi texted me asking where we had ended up.
I decided against making everyone stay out on the off chance Luigi actually found us. If he didn't, I would have ended up feeling pretty stupid, and I don't like that feeling. So I told him we were heading home, but that we should get together for a beer soon. He agreed.
He texted me today to wish me luck on the assignment that I have due tomorrow that I had been complaining about on Saturday. (He remembered!) I wondered out loud if I should ask him for a celebratory drink on Tuesday night after handing in my assignment.
"Do you want to?" said Amelie.
"Yes."
"Then do it!"
Ok then. So I did. The rest of the text conversation went something like this:
Luigi: I would love to get a drink on Tuesday, but damn it, I can't. How about Thursday?
(I took it as a good sign that he was suggesting another time, as opposed to saying "some other time, though.")
Vi: I can't on Thursday. How's your Friday look?
(Thursday I'm watching Glee with Fen and I won't cancel for a boy.)
Luigi: I might have to go to Italy on Friday for the weekend. How's Wednesday before dinner?
Vi: I have class on Wednesday until 8:30 (Which Fen advised me to skip.) After?
Luigi: I can't, it's my flatmate's birthday. I won't give up though! How about lunch? Tuesday? Thursday?
Vi: Oooh! Thursday! I can do lunch on Thursday!
So we're having lunch on Thursday. I told him that was really complicated and it better be worth it. He told me it would be. I kind of like him. I have a crush.
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