George, George, and More George

10.53 PM

I thought I’d seen the last of George. This afternoon. When I almost ran into him, but because of my keen eyesight, I managed to avoid him and watch him climb into a taxi from a safe distance.

I’d thought I’d seen the last of him earlier in the day (before the taxi incident), but I was mistaken. Wow was I mistaken.

I now have his email address and am very frightened that he will show up in the morning to help me to the bus station.

Let me paint you a picture…

The sky was ominous and threatening. The hostel was silent. The boy from Singapore was here, but was alone in his single room. George must have gotten his key back, because he didn’t buzz to come up. I was in the dorm room alone, packing. One second I was trying to figure out where to stuff a shoe and the next second I was staring at George. My heart must have stopped - I was terrified.

What was going to happen? What did he want from me? Why me? Why can’t he take a hint?

He offered to help me to the bus station tomorrow. I declined, saying that I only had one smallish bag and couldn’t possibly use any help.

He immediately asked if I wanted to go have some coffee at a restaurant (this is the moment when I decide he probably liiikes me. I told him that I thought I might have some plans with one of the girls in the hostel, but even if I didn’t, I still wanted to get to sleep early and hadn’t finished packing (I had actually, but he didn’t know that). So he politely went into the common area to wait and I proceeded to “pack.”

I was wearing my pajamas and didn’t look like I was ready to go out at all. In fact, I looked like I was ready to go to sleep. But can he take a hint? NO.

Eventually, the girl I’d claimed to have plans with returned. I informed her of our plans and she kindly agreed to assist me. The rest was easy. I brushed my teeth (again, for show) and said goodnight. George said he would maybe see me tomorrow (I surely hope not and I will do what I can to avoid him) and then decided he wanted my email address.

I hate that I was this rude, but I gave him a fake. Poor guy probably didn’t deserve that, but I didn’t deserve to be chased by three strange men all week either! And if I ever feel terrible about my actions, terrible enough to invite George back into my life, I have his email address.