"Are you still pissed at me?"

So last night, my roommate Renu convinced me to go out to Medjool with her, our other roommate Sabba, and some friends. I was kind of in the mood to stay at home and read my book (Love in the Time of Cholera) or watch rest of Season 4 of The L Word. I was just not really in the mood to go out, but then I got all dolled up, put on my brightest red lipstick, and walked the 1 1/2 blocks from my house to Medjool, just so I wouldn't be a party pooper. It was, after all, a Saturday night.

It turned out to be a great night for Medjool. It wasn't cold at all, and of course, the heating lamps were on. I was being social, talked to a bunch of random people, some of the crowd I was there with, and even a really cool couple who were visiting from New Zealand. I was having such a great time being out on the roof deck, in fact, that I had no desire to join everyone else downstairs, inside the bar, where the dance floor is. Medjool turns into a massive club on Saturdays and I've only been there once for it. Usually, I stay upstairs, but this time, Sabba convinced me, more so because I was trying to avoid a guy (Renu calls him a "cock-blocker"). Every time I run into this guy, anywhere in the city, he does not leave me alone, and acts like he's my personal body-guard, if not my man. Needless to say, I have absolutely NO interest in him.

Sabba and I got down to the mezzanine, where the rest of our crowd was, and we were standing, overlooking the dancefloor, and then at some point, I'm not sure why since I wasn't planning on getting another drink, I headed over towards the bar. I was doing whatever it was I had walked over to the bar for, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around. It was Lele.

Lele:
Are you still pissed at me?

Me:
Yes.

Lele:
Why?

Me:
Why do you think? You should have called when you said you would.

I told him all over again about what a jerk his friend was to me the night of the game, after we dropped Lele off at the Caltrain station, and he told me all about how he's been really sad because he thought he'd met a really cool girl and now he'd screwed it up. He had screwed it up, I told him.

Lele:
But I e-mailed you to apologize.

Me:
(Rolling my eyes) Really? Cause I didn't get it.

He gave me the rest of his spiel about how he sent me this e-mail from NY and apologized for being a dick, but of course I didn't believe him, since I never saw this e-mail. He told me how his friend, Jacob/Guillermo, finally called him after ten days and said he forgave Lele, but that Lele had better never pull something like that again.

Lele:
I thought when you wished me happy birthday on Facebook the other day, it was your way of saying you forgive me.

Me:
No. It was my way of saying you lied to me about your age. You said you were 32, but Sascha said you're 27.

So he pulled out his license and of course, dark as it was in there, I couldn't see it. I tried to get into the light and finally he found a perfect spot and pointed to where it said DOB: 09/19/1975.

Lele:
See? I wasn't lying. So will you hang out with me again? Please, please, pretty please?

Me:
I don't know. I'll think about it.

Lele:
C'mon I've been feeling really awful.

He says this with a very extremely fake, extremely pained look, which I can't help but laugh at. He clasps his hands in front of me, dying for forgiveness.

Me:
You're a dork.

Lele:
What? Why am I dork? That's not nice.

Me:
Well, you are.

Lele:
Ok fine. I'm a dork. Will you hang out with me? Please? Give me a hug.

So we hug and make up.

Kind of.

Not really, but kind of.

For now.