Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 89

           Hewasmakingajokeathisownexpense,saying,"I’mafullcatastropheofaBrazilianman-Ican’tdance,Ican’tplaysoccerandIcan’tplayanymusicalinstruments."ForsomereasonIreplied,"Maybeso.ButIhaveafeelingyoucouldplayaverygoodCasanova."Timestoppedsolidforalong,longmoment,then,aswelookedateachotherfrankly,like,Thatwasaninterestingideatolayonthistable.Theboldnessofmystatementhoveredintheairarounduslikeafragrance.Hedidn’tdenyit.Ilookedawayfirst,feelingmyselfblush.)

           Hisfeijoadawasamazing,anyway.Decadent,spicyandrich-everythingyoucan’tnormallygetinBalinesefood.Iateplateafterplateoftheporkanddecidedthatitwasofficial:Icanneverbeavegetarian,notwithfoodlikethisintheworld.Andthenwewentoutdancingatthislocalnightclub,ifyoucancallitanightclub.Itwasmorelikeagroovybeachshack,onlywithoutthebeach.TherewasalivebandofBalinesekidsplayinggoodreggaemusic,andtheplacewasmixedupwithrevelersofallagesandnationalities,expatsandtouristsandlocalsandgorgeousBalineseboysandgirls,alldancingfreely,unself-consciously.Armeniahadn’tcomealong,claimingshehadtoworkthenextday,butthehandsomeolderBrazilianmanwasmyhost.Hewasn’tsuchabaddancerasheclaimed.Probablyhecanplaysoccer,too.Ilikedhavinghimnearby,openingdoorsforme,complimentingme,callingme"darling."Thenagain,Inoticedthathecalledeveryone"darling"-eventhehairymalebartender.

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