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You won't read this until tomorrow because you are undoubtedly enjoying your "last day of Summer" right now, but me, well, there's no such thing as Labor Day in Colombia. Don't you feel bad for me? Nah.
Obviously, Saturday sucked big time. When I got home that night, I went straight to bed and slept until the next morning. Adrianna and I were supposed to go out, but I flaked on her for about the 3rd time. When I woke up, I had 10 missed calls from her. Did I mention that Paisas are jealous people?
Sunday was much better. Dan and I picked up Isaias and took him and Dan's friend's kid, Pepito (3 yrs) to the 5-Star Hotel Intercontinental pool, where the Columbus School employees are let in for free. He had a great time. I think about how much I love the pool, so it must have been a thrill for him. When we left, I came home and made the call of shame. Luckily, she's a forgiving girl, so we made plans for 5:00 PM. I went to Jeff's house and waited for her there.
Fast-forward to 6:45, and still no Adrianna. Jeff tells me that this is totally normal, but I'm getting a little annoyed. I decide that I'm going to head down to Parque Lleras (pronounced Par-kay Jerrus) and wait for her there, martini in hand. We get outside the building and she pulls up on her moped. So we start walking down to P.L. and Jeff is having a completely Spanish conversation with her, of which I only understand bits and pieces, and I start getting a little nervous. So far, I can only speak Spanish when I'm drinking, and by the way, I seem to be able to do that really well (the drinking or the speaking, you're thinking, and the answer is both). I begin to wonder how this date's going to go. A first date is always a little on the awkward side, but in a different language?!
Jeff leaves, and now I'm on my own. Determined to not have bouts of awkward silence, I start in. I tell her that I want her to correct me when I'm off and help me learn. Also, I've heard that body language and non-verbal communication account for 90 percent of communication, and let me assure you that this is not far off. We go to dinner at a place called El Carbon, which is supposed to be famous for its meat selection. I get my martini and we begin chatting for about 30 minutes before ordering. But when I look at the menu, I notice that everything on it begins with "Portobello", which I can only assume means I'll be eating mushrooms. Not my favorite. I find one that comes with a blue cheese base, and think to myself that a steak with mushrooms will be good, I'll just have to push them to the side. I ask the waitress if I can get the meal without mushrooms and she gives me the craziest look. Minutes later the food arrives, and I'm looking at a bowl of mushrooms. No steak anywhere. And that's what I eat for dinner. Not wanting to appear angry or discontent, I eat the mushrooms, but mostly bread dipped in the blue cheese sauce. Not my greatest dinner. However, the company was great and things went really well. Jeff tells me that I'm now officially her boyfriend, but I don't know how I feel about that. Why should I settle on just one? I don't know what to do.
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