Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Comedia 1/2

I was voraciously hungry. But in Spain I suppose it was always that way. Even though my host mother would cook enormous meals I could barely finish there was a certain hunger that revolved around my entire trip there. I don’t think it was about quantity. I think it was about comfort. In Spain there was no comfort food. I stuffed myself and never found comfort in it. There was no American food--at least in the most American of ways.

My hunger was a discomfort, constantly burbling and groaning. Asking for something other than what I could give it.

I was hanging out with Ameen, Brandon, and Anwar. Our night started out slowly. We drank a bit and didn’t think much of it. The apartment was run-down. Or maybe it wasn’t. The furniture was arranged oddly, as if placed in order to patch up holes or conceal water damage. The furniture was ugly. A sickly yellow floral pattern, faux leather, the bad brown. And it was definitely an apartment in the middle of the city. It had been painted and re-painted. It had been nearly destroyed, and shoddily rebuilt. The sink kind of worked. The toilet almost flushed. And somehow, drinking there with Ameen, Anwar, and Brandon I didn’t feel hungry.

Home was a foreign word; we had abandoned home and were stuck in another country. Home was wherever we said it was.

So we waited until 2 in the morning before going out. A little later start than usual but nothing out of the ordinary. And we headed to some club called Comedia. On the subway Ameen told me a bit about being in a long-distance relationship while the two were abroad.

It was wearing on him. She was away in Italy and insisted on yanking hard on his leash even across the European continent.

“I’m not allowed to dance with girls.”

“What?” I asked as the subway bounced back and forth.

“I’m not allowed to dance with girls. And I’m ok with that. But I saw on her facebook pictures of her dancing with guys.”

I stared at him blankly. I wanted to scream, that’s bull and she needs to get her crap together. Instead I nodded slowly.

Ameen is a fairly monotonous guy. Not in a boring way; in the way that you are never sure where he is going with his statements. So nodding was a safe response. He continued, “and she said that there are creepy guys who try to dance with her otherwise.”