The Walk of Shame (or Why I'll Never Date A Latino Boy)

Let me begin by acknowledging the fact that I am writing this post while on the subway, on my home from last night. Kind of cool that I can post from my BlackBerry, but equally sad that I am doing the walk of shame at 8:30AM.

So last night I met up with a friend for drinks -- I still can't have alcohol, fingers crossed the doctor says I can have solid food starting today (and a Martini!).

This "friend" is a really hot latino boy from Peru. I've thought this guy was hot for a few years, but he never seemed to notice me. So I wrote him off as a jerk. Flash forward to earlier this year when he shows up at my favorite watering hole, the Eagle NYC. My friend who runs the leather shop in the Eagle was kinda interested in him, and I even told him that I thought this guy was a jerk. Really hot, but a jerk.

We were introduced and actually hit it off (could I have been wrong about him?). Meanwhile I knew that my friend was interested in him, so I was hands off. Cause I wouldn't do that to one of my friends (or would I?).

The Peruvian and I started hanging out, outside of the Eagle. And then last night happened. I met him at a bar in Midtown, he was with a really drunk (annoying) friend. They had spent the weekend out on Fire Island. Which means drinking for 4 days straight, starting at 10am each day. My kidneys hurt just thinking about it.

After his friend left (thank God), I decided to buy the Peruvian another cocktail (I had a water). He was very hands on in the 45mins that we were together up to that point. Adding this next cocktail tipped the scale. He decided to profess that he liked me. And that he hadn't acted on it cause he didn't want to upset our mutual friend (even thought nothing ever happened between them). Too which I countered with how I felt about him. Now I knew in the back of my mind that he was drunk, but still had hopes that it was what finally gave him the courage to tell me the truth.

He had promised his roommate that he would come home and hang out and watch a movie. So we walked to his place, hand in hand in the rain. Just like a scene from a movie. We even stopedp for a make out session in the middle of the sidewalk. We got on the elevator with someone, thankfully they got off on the 5th floor, and as soon as the doors closed we were back at it! Man he was a good kisser!

So I don't think this was the evening his roommate had planned for, but we had met before so it was fine. The peruvian was a hot mess, and wanted chicken wings, so his roommate ordered him some. Side bar: we watched a funny movie called "Ghost Town".

The movie ended around 11:30pm, and so we retired to his bedroom. I had reservations about staying, in fact I even asked (yes I asked a drunk person) if he was still gonna like me in the morning or was this just the alcohol. He of course said, "Yes." We made out some more, but I knew that was where it was gonna end. We spent the night together spooning, which you know I just love.

And now its the next morning. We woke up at 7:30AM, yes some people have jobs (I think working is overrated, ha!). Unfortunately the passion from the night before seemed to be gone, it was all business as he preped for work. Before I knew it we were out the door and walking cross town. We did kiss goodbye on the street. And he mentioned he would let me know if he was going to the Eagle on Thursday. Ok?!? WTF?!?

So the lesson here!?! Latino boys, they are uber passionate, but can turn it off as quickly as it was turned on! Sigh. Another tale of Pablo in Manhattan.