I’m back in the same position I was in the summer of ’99. I moved to New York for graduate school, graduated, then couldn’t find a job so I moved back home to Maryland. I never unpack the boxes of my stuff because that would be like accepting that living in Maryland is permanent. I’m dating a guy, Blue Eyes, who I’ve given the same speech I once gave Logan about not wanting anything serious, and yet again, I’m in some weird emotional entanglement.
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TIMING IS EVERYTHING (ANOTHER LONDON STORY)
When I was 20, I studied abroad in London. But that’s not the part that matters (and I’ve told that story many times before), this is: the summer before I left for the UK, I was at a local electronics store in June, shopping for CDs and met a guy. I hadn’t handed out my number to anyone in months and I was deliberately in between boyfriends. I planned to spend the summer and the rest of the year unattached. I’d never been to London, didn’t know what promises it held and I didn’t want there to be anything holding me back or distracting me from exploring any and all options I might encounter abroad.
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Johannesburg's Nelson Mandela bridge, Courtesy of Cyldeco.com
ADVENTURES WITH WHITE MAN LEROY, PART 3
I have no idea what goes on at the pool. I can’t see it from the DJ booth. And even if I did know, I would not tell because what happens in Johannesburg – at least the wildest stuff—stays in Johannesburg.
Anyway, everyone’s gone for an hour. I stay in the living room spinning. I do an R. Kelly set—TP2—to help out whatever situation is going on in the pool. At 7:30, a new group of people show up, ask where everyone is, and head down for their own dip. I still get the feeling that something is up, something I can’t put my finger on. I’m up because I’m jet lagged and my body thinks it’s midnight. Why is everyone else up?
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