The problem wasn't the pregnant stalker, it was just a symptom of a larger problem. It's how I ended up as an ESL teacher. Can I trace back to that week 6 months before when I came to the realization that my job was possibly turning me into an alcoholic on the verge of a breakdown? Could be, that week was hellacious, authors screaming and editors playing dumb, and a level of frustration with the box I called on office. From a windowed office to one that barely had overhead lighting, it was like suffocating.
So it was in that haze of craziness that I met "Ze German". It was the last thing I thought would happen that week, but needed to blow off steam at a friend's birthday party and was a little more, shall I say more, gregarious than usual. Next thing I know, a friend's telling me "Girl, you need to take that boy home". And well I did. As they say, it was a night to remember, but I am not they and I don't remember what happened after making out with Ze German at the bar.
This is what I remember. Blinding sunlight, dry mouth, and a POUNDING headache. Oh, and where are my clothes, and whose bed is this and what the fuck happened to my clothes? And why is this dude looking at me with a smile on his face like that? Awkward. I am not alone. Should have been the first thing that came to me, but it all hurt too much.
The kindness of strangers is continually lauded, no stranger is ever kinder than the one who you picked up the bar the night before and offers you a cold glass of water and some ibuprofen. And that is how I met your father. NOT, this is not a Katherine Heigl rom-com. Though in the coming weeks, months, years hi-jinx will ensue with this guy. But first, I get dressed. We have that awkward conversation that you have with the stranger that you were just really intimate with. "oh, wait, can you excuse me for a minute, I need to use your bathroom", "okay".
Cut to me running up the stairs to vomit. Then of course I snoop around his bathroom to for toothpaste. Listerine, jackpot!!
Back to the pleasantries and exchange of phone numbers. It will be a week before I realize that I failed to save the numbers. And a month before I run into him while ordering another drink I don't need. Followed-up by a "Before Sunset/Sunrise" kind of night.
So it was in that haze of craziness that I met "Ze German". It was the last thing I thought would happen that week, but needed to blow off steam at a friend's birthday party and was a little more, shall I say more, gregarious than usual. Next thing I know, a friend's telling me "Girl, you need to take that boy home". And well I did. As they say, it was a night to remember, but I am not they and I don't remember what happened after making out with Ze German at the bar.
This is what I remember. Blinding sunlight, dry mouth, and a POUNDING headache. Oh, and where are my clothes, and whose bed is this and what the fuck happened to my clothes? And why is this dude looking at me with a smile on his face like that? Awkward. I am not alone. Should have been the first thing that came to me, but it all hurt too much.
The kindness of strangers is continually lauded, no stranger is ever kinder than the one who you picked up the bar the night before and offers you a cold glass of water and some ibuprofen. And that is how I met your father. NOT, this is not a Katherine Heigl rom-com. Though in the coming weeks, months, years hi-jinx will ensue with this guy. But first, I get dressed. We have that awkward conversation that you have with the stranger that you were just really intimate with. "oh, wait, can you excuse me for a minute, I need to use your bathroom", "okay".
Cut to me running up the stairs to vomit. Then of course I snoop around his bathroom to for toothpaste. Listerine, jackpot!!
Back to the pleasantries and exchange of phone numbers. It will be a week before I realize that I failed to save the numbers. And a month before I run into him while ordering another drink I don't need. Followed-up by a "Before Sunset/Sunrise" kind of night.
