The Italian

I met The Italian at an office party to celebrate the end of Fashion week. It was toward the middle of the evening when I ran into this guy (almost literally since I was a little drunk) He was perched outside the entrance of my office looking oh so Euro-chic with just a hint of arrogance. Naturally I was attracted to him. So I started talking to him., about what I can’t remember. At the end of the night, I decided that I wanted this guy and I wanted him bad!! We ended up exchanging numbers and saliva by the end of the night. So we went on our first date a few days later to this little Italian spot in Chelsea. Food was good, the energy was hot and he was so sexy. We ate, drank, and I helped him with his English. This was before I started taking Italian lessons, but I learned a lot from him. Like how to say “disgusting” and “I wanna have sex with you”. At the end of the night he walked me to the Metro and he gave me his American number. I only had his Italian number at the time. And then he kissed me. I literally felt like I was in a scene from a movie as people walked by and the wind blew and how the evening light was just perfect! It was very romantic. Fast forward a few weeks (keep in mind he was only in American for 3 months to learn English) So after a while he started to get a little TOO comfortable with me. I felt like he was treating me as though I was his little woman. Like he owned me or something. He also became pretty offensive and disrespectful. On Thanksgiving we got into a HUGE fight on the metro platform on our way to my friends dinner party in Brooklyn and because I didn’t know some silly tidbit about American history, he had the Balls to call me ignorant. What a Jackass!!! We yelled and screamed so loud that people were gawking at us. At this point I thought he was going to leave and go back to his apt and not come with me to the party (which I was hoping he would do) but no, he didn’t. He actually got onto the train with me but we sat far away from each other and we went to the party anyway. While we were there we acted as though nothing had happened and I realized as I looked at him from across the room, that I didn’t even like this guy. Not even as a person. I didn’t know what I was doing hanging out with him in the first place. He made me sick! After the party, we left and went back to my apt. He wanted to be intimate but I wasn’t having it so when he thought I was asleep, he “snuck” out of my bed and left. When I heard the door close behind him, I thought, thank God! He made this so easy for me. And for all I know he is back in his little town in Italy still living with his mother and driving his shitty car.