I feel like I'm looking for sex, wandering the streets looking and looking. I'm looking for this guy who said he was going to make me a grilled octopus dinner. Well I think that's what he said. He doesn't speak any English. What is it with me? Good teeth are important to me, but you wouldn't know it from my crushes: Anthony Bourdain, the sauve Vietnamese guy who made a bundle by sending me off on a refuge boat and now another guy with bad teeth who gave me a tour around the island for free and is supposedly making me dinner.
I see him today, earlier than I expected. I see him today limping. Did you crash your scooter? Knowing he doesn't speak English of course he answered. Well he looks distressed. I think he's looking for another scooter and a place for us to have our little affair. I have no idea but he wants me to wait. To wait - to wait where? He points at various places. But I'm impatient. I run into the young student. I met earlier in the week. and his mother- intellectuals I wouldn't mind spending time with, but not today because I'm wandering the streets.
Finally I've had enough and I eat another delicious meal at Cenk's then I go to my confidant, Lisa the ex-pat Australian and she tell me the scooter guy walked back and forth in front of her restaurant looking for me. Too bad but at Cenk's, whose place is really called Batti Balik, I had a stuffed artichoke, a fabulous fish soup and grilled mackerel and clams. Food is my pacifier.
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