10.21.2005

Istanbul (Not Constantinople)

There was the time I went to this girl's house, to "hang out." We kinda liked each other, but that was unspoken. The street her family lived on was a narrow one-way, and their driveway was very small. It was all gravel, and narrow, and I had a terrible time trying to park beside her brother's Camero.

The girl and I talked a while in the kitchen. She got me a drink, and I drank it casually; she drank, too. Done drinking, we went out and talked on the back porch. The porch was small, and we stood, then sat, quite close to each other. We could hear her little sister listening to They Might Be Giants, upstairs.

The phone rang inside, and she went in to answer. I followed and made my way through to the living room and talked to her brother. He was a freshman in college at the time, but I didn't know who called. Later, as I was getting up to leave, I called up to the girl to say goodbye, and she came halfway down the stairs. We spoke briefly, and I asked her brother for the quickest route back to the main highway.

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