Brazen
I’d had coffee earlier this week with a friend of a friend, who told me he frequented a bar where a lot of Lebanese people hung out. I really wanted to go, but also felt awkward about inviting myself along on his Saturday night.
I decided to anyway. I figured if he didn’t want me there, he’d find an excuse.
“Of course I will invite you,” he said.
We met at 9 and are both just getting home now, close to 3am. Django might forgive me in a couple of days. We talked about about growing up in Morocco (him), having immigrant parents (me), being foreigners in Turkey, and feminism. I laughed and felt comfortable, aside from physically, because for some reason, all my pants have shrunk since being in Istanbul.
It’s been a long day. The wind is blowing like crazy here, past the windows of my attic apartment. I leave you with a photo of a place I passed today that brought me great joy, and might have something to do with pants shrinking.
