27 February 2011

Not Moving After All--Not Yet, Anyway

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I was thinking of moving in with a woman I know.  Well, at least I thought I knew her.  Or, more precisely, I actually knew her better than I was willing to believe.

She didn't steal my boyfriend (or girlfriend!).  In fact, she didn't steal anything, except for some time.  

Instead, she asked me out to dinner with her.  "My treat," she said.  But even if it weren't, I would've gone to dinner with her because she said she wanted to talk.  I assumed that she meant a conversation about the prospect of my moving in, or about other circumstances in her life.

But we didn't talk much.  Instead, she downed martinis--five, to be exact.  She chased them with shots of vodka.  And  I'm sure she'd been drinking before she saw me.

By the time she finished, she couldn't stand up straight,let alone walk.  So I had to get her back to her apartment.  She wanted me to stay, though she was barely conscious. let alone coherent.  I couldn't, because I had early classes and a presentation the following day,  She knew that, just as she knew that I don't drink.

I guess it was better to have had that experience a few nights ago han to have had it after I moved in with her.

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