Ti piacerebbe dormire con me?

I’m at LaSalle Power Co. in River North and—it being my first time ever hanging out with Jenn, who’s invited me along to her friend’s birthday party—I’m trying to put a good foot forward by not being a needy and clingy guest. So when I see a tall, well-dressed gentleman checking me out, I decide this is a good opportunity to prove just how self-sufficient a guest I am.

I don’t quite make eyes back at this target, but that’s okay because I can hear his friends pushing him to approach me. I feign surprise when he comes up to me and holds out his hand.

“Hello. I like-uh Asian guhrls,” he says to me straight off the bat in heavily accented vernacular. Uh-oh, this is off to a rocky start.

Determined not to come back to Jenn empty-handed, I deter him from his feverish ways and ask for his name. I half expect him to respond, “I’m Maaaaaaaa-rio!”

Turns out his name is plain American Steven. His preamble and regular-Joe name notwithstanding, Steven certainly doesn’t dress like a schmuck. He’s decked out in a fitted blazer with nerdy hipster black plastic-frame glasses and a bowtie that actually fashions him dashing. Add to that he’s off the boat fresh from Italy. Top that off with some graduate business student-ness at U. of Chicago. Overall am I now impressed? Certainly.

It doesn’t last long. Five minutes into our conversation, Steven comes up with the kicker.

“So-ah, when a-ru we gonna ha-vuh the sex-uh?”

“Say what?” I retort, incredulous.

“You know-uh. The sex-uh, the sex-uh.”

Of all the things I could be thinking, my first thought: He gave “sex” a direct article?! I laugh uncomfortably, eyes darting sideways in an instinctual search for an escape. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“You say no-uh?”

“Ah, we’ve just met, you know.”

He shrugs disappointedly, but remains resolute in his quest.

“Okay, okay. What do I hav-uh to do-ah to hav-uh the sex-uh with you?”

Never let it be said that Steven isn’t considerate.


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