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3.28.2005

Mummy, why is that girl wearing a riding outfit?

That's the ? I wouldve had to ask my mummy when I saw a girl last nite in FULL riding gear: hat, little vest, pants, boots, even the whip!! Yes, the english do ride a lot im sure, but I doubt they are doing it at 11 at nite in a pub/club, which is where I gazed upon this young lady. I went back to Delfter Krug last nite[i gotta find out what that means] with my new found African friend, Moussa, not Moses as I wrote earlier.

I had so many titles to introduce this log with, but went with the one above. Other candidates included "Smoking causes impotence? huh?" "Why the british drink: They can't function without it, An essay" "Holy PDA, Batman!" and "African Princess." Now the last of these titles is the most fitting, since that is what my drinking pahtnah wanted to make me lol. noooo... he didn't wanna me one of his many wives as the stereotype some people have about African men goes. lol [AHEM K.B.]

Yehhhh...so im chilling at home. Phone rings at about 10. Tis Moussaka, aka Moussa, saying he was going out and wanting to see if I wanted to tag along. "Sure! I aint doing shit" I reply. I actually kinda dreaded the thought of going there cuz 1) I didn't wanna spend any money on drinks 2) I dont wanna smell like smoke and 3) I think I may be running out of stuff to say[jk]. But dammit, there's nothing else to do, so I agree to meet him at 11. left my house at 10:58. get there at 11 and see him in line. 2 pounds to get in, but he's 'on the list' so we get in for free. Apparently, he's friends with the DJ. TRU! I must be knowing the right people cuz I didn't have to pay the 4 pounds it cost to get in last time cuz mike knew the bartender. We entre, and he introduces me to his friend, the DJ, aka Sy. He's cute, but unfortunately, his lips were lookin a tad darker than theyre supposed to be, if you get mah drift[i.e. he must be smokin sumthin] His hair is pulled back and poking out thru the hole in the back of a baseball cap, so he kinda 'looks' like a DJ, I guess. Obviously he's mixed. Anywhoo, on to the place everybody goes straight to when they come in...EL BAR! Mustafa asks me what I want: "southern comfort and smoke...I mean coke." oops, no southern comfort..fine, Hennessey. He pays. I say merci.

Up the stairs we go cuz he says he usually chills upstairs, but the music is mostly 70s crap and therefore sucks, plus it's too loud to really talk, so I said I wanted to return to downstairs. We chitter-chatter downstairs with 'getting to know the other person' convo: ho-riginally from Senegal, moved to Egypt for school, then moved to Bath[LOVES bath, apparently], but most of his family lives in france; 27; speaks 4-and-a-half languages[Wolof, English, French, Arabic and some Hebrew]; has been to Spain, greece, yada yada; models[doesnt everybody?]; used to work in the Gap, but quit[most of his friends we'll greet tonite used to work in the Gap too]; is in the process of moving; etc etc. I told him he would have to help me with my french since im oh so rusty and he says sure, he'll try to say french stuff to me. He went back to French I up in that piece with "comment tu t'appelle?" "Je m'appelle Marie-Therese." His eyes widen when he hears my name and starts going off in french, but I dunno what he's saying: I dont understand sentences! Also tries to teach me to say stuff in other languages. I learned how to say 'Hello' in Arabic, but of course, I dont remember.

"want another drink?" Back at the bar, I order a shot of absinthe..the bartender looks at me like she's clueless, but i see her go ask another bartender, and she picks up the same bottle...i remember it from the other nite. But Im not gonna order that thing for at least another two weeks....even im getting scared of what it might be doing to me. lol Got a malibu and coka to wash it down. He pays. "Wow, im saving money tonite boy!" I thought. But, as we learn in America, nothing is free and without strings. Continue chatting, he keeps greeting people, I see an empty cigarette carton that says "smoking kills" on one side and "smokes decreases blood flow and causes impotence" on the other. HAHAHA im dying of laughter. I discover he's dressed in GAP from head to toe, but as anybody who works there knows, you gotta wear all gap stuff so you will eventually become their walking billboard. As the night progresses, I notice something...

...why is there so much PDA??? Ive never seen so much kissing in my life..and im not just talking about regular kissing. Full-on googly eyes, let's take this to the bedroom making out! Im shocked and amazed these people are conducting themselves this way in public, and Moussa tells me it's not uncommon. I always knew that about Europe, but when it's all up in your face, it's a different story. My mouth keeps falling open every 20 minutes and he tells me not to be shocked. "But if these people can be that intimate in public, what are they doing when theyre actually behind closed doors??" I ask him. He even tells me they may not even really know each other....now im even more disgusted. "people do that with people they just met??" "sure" he says all nonchalantly. I say "whatever" and just start ignoring. He mocks my "whatever" and tells me I say that a lot. But I don't think I shoulda started talking about that subject, because the conversation started turning towards relationship-type inquiries and flattering comments, and that's NEVER a good sign. Unfortunately the african became a little too friendly, then I went into shutdown mode...not completely, but I was basically deflecting most of what he had to say.

We stay til the place closes at two, i grab some free postcards on my way out, and we see his friend the DJ as we're leaving. Sy invites him to a birthday thingie for some dude named Calvin tomorrow at...you guessed it..delfter krug! [this place must be the shit] he says he'll put Moussa down on the list for him plus two..then Sy asks me what Im doing tomorrow. i say nada and he said I should come back tomorrow. Mr. M. then he walks me home, I put his number in my PDA, I say Ill call and I bid him adieu. Now I smell like smoke, but at least I didn't spend any money.

I told the African I can only be his friend...he said cool. No matter what I gotta keep this up because he promised me he'd introduce me to some black girls, including a Jamaican lady he said does hair. And no, im not a user, but keep people in your life for certain things, I say. and i need to get my hair done eventually! lol.

I dunno if Im going out tonite. I think I might actually like to stay in.

later.

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african men. i agree with kb (a bit suspect). i know full hand. theyre playas (so watch ur back) and polygamists. mmhmm...glad u told him u'll be just friends (though he'll still try to make u more).

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