I met him one random summer night, at that time last call had come and gone. Forced to walk my happy ass home. His words ran over to me as I was crossing the street, asking if I needed a ride. I looked at him and thought “what a babe, it wouldn’t hurt to learn his name.” I had caught a buzz so I wasn’t afraid, either way I wasn’t living for my benefit anyway, that was when I remembered my mother and her cautious words slipped in between the lust and reckless thoughts. He was a risk with the devils grin, I turned him down, but I considered it.
Continuing my walk, I was being led by the warm air. Intoxicated with the feeling of summer. A love affair fit for a drunk, my preoccupied mind so busy with the thoughts of a smitten teenager that I didn’t even notice when he pulled up next to me. His words weren’t aggressive, actually he was pretty welcoming. I went over to his window, leaned in and made sure to make eye contact. I wanted him to know that I was completely infatuated with the recklessness, he returned my gaze. My mothers warnings were silenced when his green eyes met my brown eyes.
His name was Nondo, he was Greek and his body seemed to have been carved out of marble paired with a jawline that I had only seen in black and white movies. There I was, sitting in a strangers car and wondering if we would get very far. I asked if he was at the bar because I didn’t see him there, but honestly bars are dark for a reason, and I’m grateful for that. The darkness swallows up the faces and the ugly and I was sure a guy like that would stand out because drunk or sober he would always be pretty. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t there. He was doing I forget what and I forget where.
I don’t remember how but suddenly I was being let out into my drive way. I left him with a promise “if you stalk me then I welcome the company.” I had never been scolded by anyone about my choices, my friends would eat up my tales with a laugh and a head shake. My family didn’t expect any less from me, so it was a surprise to hear “Are you that careless to get into a strangers car? If you ever do it again, I’ll chop your body into multiple pieces and mail them to your mother.” I let him know to make sure and attach a card.
One year I spent my birthday with a stranger, I made sure not to tell him. but Jameson and Jack forced my hand, and I mentioned it. This Greek didn’t want to drink, he didn’t want to dance, and he didn’t want to get in my pants. I felt myself break into 22 different pieces. I was flooded with all of my anxieties, the thoughts I had suppressed with a summer of alcohol and sex finally caught up with me. I wasn’t in love anymore, summer had gone and fall has begun. I went crazy, why doesn’t he want me, Why do I need that sense of security, What is he doing with me if he doesn’t want to fuck me? I hate my birthday.