That Night At the Peace Party
Thursday night, I was peacefully enjoying my Merlot and dancing with my classmate, Sarah, in a party thrown by the Peace Studies students from the Kroc Institute. Great party…with that Turkish smoking implement and all. And then, this person came and started talking to us, and then to me…only. Great dancer. He could twirl you so smoothly around the room, throw you up the air, and then catch you with so much flair. No kidding. At the end of the night, he asked if he could take me home. My Filipino friends, Mica and Marco (bless their hearts), being very Filipino, told me in front of him to call them once I got back home safely. And with emphasis, they said that they will wait for my call. This person told me later that he thought it was both funny and frightening. He found it funny because my friends didn’t trust him and he found it frightening because after hearing their words, he was more determined to prove to them that he did just intend to take me straight home. Sweet.
He drove me home (and yes, without any detours!), walked me to my door, and before he left, reminded me to call Mica and Marco. The next day, we went out. We went out again the day after that. And the day after that. He went out of town two days ago to spend the rest of spring break with his friends in Iowa.
Now, where is this going? Not sure, not sure. A week from now, I might be writing hate and frustration posts on this blog again, right? Let’s see.
