22 5 / 2012
After Midsummer’s Night’s dream, I went to a meeting. It was in a small room full of chairs and they were serving tea and cookies. I sat next to a boy named Dale. He looked very young but he said he was 22. Dale had red hair and freckles and wore a NIRVANA shirt. He also had a tattoo that said “WEE DALE” on his arm. Dale was extremely friendly, but not in an invasive or inappropriate way. I had been used to comments about American politics and such, but Dale was not concerned with that:
“What do you Americans call cookies if you call biscuits cookies?” Dale asked.
Initially, I had to ask Dale to repeat himself several times because his Scottish accent was so thick. He told me about his friends and how they all drank this new drink that was a combination of an energy drink and alcohol. After the meeting, Dale offered to walk me out. When he got up, I noticed that Dale wore a leg brace. I walked downstairs with Dale and told him that I would just get a cab but it was raining and difficult to get one. I pulled out a Lucky Strike and Dale got out his lighter right away like a gentleman. Dale insisted to walk me all the way home because he said that he had a feeling I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t really. We walked, just me and Dale. It was dark out and Edinburgh was loud and busy. The cobble stone streets were still wet with rain. Edinburgh has the most beautiful alleyways I’ve ever seen. Yes, they’re scary looking, but also beautiful.
Dale walked me right to my door. We hugged and he kissed me on the cheek, but he didn’t try and get anything else out of it. He didn’t ask for a number, an e-mail, or for me to kiss him back. Wee Dale and his leg brace. He honestly just wanted to see that I got home okay.