One year ago today, I was in Turkey; the second stop on my Mediterranean cruise with my roommate and her sister. This is the thought I had as I was sitting at work today. Below is a picture of me in ancient Ephesus.
This is Devan. Man, he was such a cute kid! To think, had I accepted his proposal, I could be living in Kusadasi selling knock-off clothing. His proposal included the shop above his apartment and a car to drive. We walked past all the neighboring shops while he announced that we were going to mate. And yes, "mate" is the word he used.
Or, I could have stayed with Marcel (or Mustafa, take your pick) who offered nothing but a glass of wine and the opportunity to kiss a foreign man. Alas, their offers were not enough and I came home and back to real life.
One question that posting these pictures got me asking myself (and I've asked it on other occasions): Why is it that I have no problem when it comes to men I'll never see again (I have almost zero sense of "stranger danger") but the gents I'll see again seem to be way too dangerous to talk to? I honestly don't understand myself most of the time.
1 comment:
persoanlly, i think you should hae shacked it up with Mustafa! He's a hottie!! haha :)
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