Sunday, July 31, 2005
Where have all the 22 year olds gone?
It all started at the hotel near E's apartment. We went to the convenience store to get candy (classy, I know. It's "the new Loft") and while in there I saw this HUGE jar with a picture of a miniature schnauzer on it. E and I started laughing as I talked about buying it for my mom in memory of Cleo.
All of a sudden, I hear a snicker at the ice cream freezer. I turn and there's a young blond whippersnapper. I smiled and ask (beguilingly, I bet!) "Are you laughing at me?"
He responds, with the razor sharp wit of a teen - "No, the ice cream is funny."
I laugh and then tell him about Cleo and whatnot. (obviously I need to work on my flirtatious repartee) Then his little bro comes by to join in on the fun of chatting with a Mrs. Robinson, and E and I take that as our cue to jet out of there.
I must be honest. Calling him 19 is probably being generous. But he talked to me first, darnit!
The next night E, C-note, T and I go to "Tom Tom" - my version of Hell. Loud, dark, crowded, full of drunk skanky people. Being anti-social, I found a couch upstairs and sat down. Soon a bevy of boys sat down around me, probably hoping that I'd feel awkward enough to leave them the couch to themselves. No such LUCK, Boys! I stayed there, and Nate and I started talking. Turns out he's interning on the Hill, is a student at Yale. Going to be a junior. After I asked him how he got in there ("oh, I've had a fake since I was 15") he offered to buy me a shot and I said okay.
Yeah. A 19 year old bought me a shot at a club/bar. And it was good! He was probably afraid I was going to tell on him to the bouncer, haha. (for the record, I wasn't going to. just to let all of you know)
The next day I decided to walk from the Mall to the Lincoln Memorial. I walked up there, sat on the steps and cracked open "Gone with the Wind". It was especially poignant since the book is about the Civil War and I was sitting on the steps of the place that reveres the man that is most hated in the book. After a bit, a male sat down near me, and he was just staring into space looking at the view. My kind of guy.
His cell phone rang, he talked a bit, repeated an address, then hung up and asked me if I had a pen for him to borrow. Being the nerd that I am, of course I had one. We ended up talking, and he's an archtecture student at some university in Florida. I offered to walk him to the place he didn't know how to find (being the kind and solicitous tour guide that I am) and he accepted my company. At the end of the walk, he asked for my phone number.
Dear Jorge is 19.
Where have all the 22 year olds gone?
All of a sudden, I hear a snicker at the ice cream freezer. I turn and there's a young blond whippersnapper. I smiled and ask (beguilingly, I bet!) "Are you laughing at me?"
He responds, with the razor sharp wit of a teen - "No, the ice cream is funny."
I laugh and then tell him about Cleo and whatnot. (obviously I need to work on my flirtatious repartee) Then his little bro comes by to join in on the fun of chatting with a Mrs. Robinson, and E and I take that as our cue to jet out of there.
I must be honest. Calling him 19 is probably being generous. But he talked to me first, darnit!
The next night E, C-note, T and I go to "Tom Tom" - my version of Hell. Loud, dark, crowded, full of drunk skanky people. Being anti-social, I found a couch upstairs and sat down. Soon a bevy of boys sat down around me, probably hoping that I'd feel awkward enough to leave them the couch to themselves. No such LUCK, Boys! I stayed there, and Nate and I started talking. Turns out he's interning on the Hill, is a student at Yale. Going to be a junior. After I asked him how he got in there ("oh, I've had a fake since I was 15") he offered to buy me a shot and I said okay.
Yeah. A 19 year old bought me a shot at a club/bar. And it was good! He was probably afraid I was going to tell on him to the bouncer, haha. (for the record, I wasn't going to. just to let all of you know)
The next day I decided to walk from the Mall to the Lincoln Memorial. I walked up there, sat on the steps and cracked open "Gone with the Wind". It was especially poignant since the book is about the Civil War and I was sitting on the steps of the place that reveres the man that is most hated in the book. After a bit, a male sat down near me, and he was just staring into space looking at the view. My kind of guy.
His cell phone rang, he talked a bit, repeated an address, then hung up and asked me if I had a pen for him to borrow. Being the nerd that I am, of course I had one. We ended up talking, and he's an archtecture student at some university in Florida. I offered to walk him to the place he didn't know how to find (being the kind and solicitous tour guide that I am) and he accepted my company. At the end of the walk, he asked for my phone number.
Dear Jorge is 19.
Where have all the 22 year olds gone?
# posted by MegS @ 12:12 AM 
