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We were lying on the bed. It was dark. I looked up at the ceiling and it was covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. If I had known this, I don’t think I would have kissed him the way I did at the club. I was drinking, the music was pounding, the crowd was exciting and exotic. Voices chattering foreign languages ebbed and flowed with the thumping music.

It was my first time to a dance club in Europe. My date was Italian. He had been watching me, I had noticed. Whenever I got together with Marco, there he was, eying me intently. He obviously liked me. And I liked the way he would say, “Dai!” in that whiny way, when he laughed with his Italian friends. I figured out it means, “Come on!”, or “Stop!”, as in stop teasing. I didn’t know for sure, but I supposed.

He had a pouty lower lip, thick, dark, curly hair, and a tall, slim frame. He looked a bit like my father in the pictures I had seen of him as a young man. I noted this almost subconsciously.

When he buzzed my door, I didn’t hear at first. I had been blow-drying my hair, planning to stay in for the night. I was feeling a little like I might be coming down with something. It would turn out to be the flu, but I didn’t know that yet.

And now here I was, on his bed. In the dark, looking at fake stars. Waiting while he put the music, a drifting melancholy tune, a clarinet maybe? A flute? I wasn’t sure. But I was quite sure I about to be one of many in a long line of girls to bed this gentleman.

He put his arm around me and pulled me close to him, “If you could be any animal, what would you be?,” he asked.

“Ummm, a polar bear, maybe?”, I replied, having never pondered this idea before.

“No,” he said, “You would be a dolphin.”

“Fair enough,” I laughed.

“What animal would you be, then?,” I countered, snuggling up to him.

“I would be a donkey.” He stated, proudly.

“Ahhh. Confirmation,” I thought to myself.

I guess I better make sure I’m memorable, at least.