13 September 2008: Belfast, Ireland

I had a pretty easy-going morning at Colin's house, since I was the only one around and was the king of the place. Towards 2:00 I headed to the union to meet Salim, a kid I had met the previous night who was Senegalese-Algerian and, unless I'm mistaken, the only black dude in all of Northern Ireland.

He showed up promptly at 2:00, giving me hope that the phone-free European experiment won't mean I'm completely lonely.

There was a football match between Liverpool and Manchester United going on, so Salim and I headed to a local bar to watch. It was just a regular-season match, but "everyone in Belfast supports either Liverpool or Man U, so this is like the Super Bowl over here."

At first I was going to support Man U because of their classic white jerseys, but I quickly realized it was too much like rooting for Penn State. I felt dirty.

Then it also occured to me that Man U are UNITED and Liverpool is nothing but a port city. So I figured that Liverpool were the chipmunks of this situation and Man U were the squirrels. And you know how I like to support chipmunks.

Unfortunately, the beer at this bar was close to £3 a pint, so even though Salim bought me a round I wasn't exactly able to get drunk and rowdy. Just respectfully rowdy. Not quite the same thing. Liverpool won, 2-1, and have the status of being my "current team."

After the match Salim and I went to check out the botanic gardens and stumbled upon the bocci field. Or, as the Irish call it, bowls. There was a large group of grandpa-types playing and I went down and bowled a round, but was embarassing myself pretty badly. I figured these men deserved a bit more respect than that, and so I thanked them for the round and left. But now I've bowled with grandpas. What a treat.

At 4:00 I bid adieu to Salim and went back to the union to meet Claire, also from the previous night although, shall we say, from a different context than Salim. I wasn't positive that we had planned for 4:00 but seemed to recall it, and I thought it was entirely plausible I would go for the sequential even numbers.

And I was right because, like Salim, she showed up on the dot at 4:00. She suggested we go for tea but, though I like tea, I'm not really too thrilled these days about spending money on things not named food, alcohol or transportation. Read: I haven't spent money on things not named food, alcohol or transportation since the hostel my second night in Dublin.

But we headed to Starbucks and, though I was terrified of what was bound to be overpriced tea, was happy to see it was only £1.55, probably making it the cheapest option in the city. So, even though it was hot and sunny and entirely not tea weather, no one was going to die.

As it turned out, Claire had recently spent three months in Detroit, had spent some time in Ann Arbor, and had just gotten back from a trip to the East Coast. My adopted home and my real home. As it turned out, I had met the closest thing to an American as I would find in Belfast.

(When I told her this last part, she asked "is that a bad thing?" Touche. But no.)

After tea we went to the botanic gardens, for my second time of the afternoon, but pretty soon Claire had to go home to help out with a family crisis-- which was her brother failing out of college. And that was the end of our hot, yet oh so respectable, date.

After walking Claire to the bus station I spent some time in City Centre since it was my first time in the area. It was nice, but not spectacular. At least, there was nothing downtown to really distinguish it from any other Irish city. Other than pork sandwiches at the Tesco, which were only 96 pence and my lunch.

After some good walking-- and a dinner of two unmicrowaved microwavable chicken burgers for 92 pence-- I went back to campus to meet Salim outside the union at 8:00. Along the way, though, a very drunk dude sitting at a table outside a bar told me to sit down, at which point he proceeded to buy me a drink and the very drunk woman he was with started to rub my head. And kept rubbing it for about ten minutes. Boy do I love the Super Bowl.

Salim had said I could crash at his place but was about ten minutes late, at which point I was a touch worried since it was basically his place or bust at this point. When he did show up he said we couldn't go back to his place for an hour, since his roommates wouldn't be too keen on my staying there, so it was back down to City Centre.

I'll tell you, by this point I had very nearly run out of things to say to this Frenchman, and was getting rather tired of saying things and then having to say them again but this time slower. Like Providence, though, there was an orchestra performing downtown, and though we didn't have tickets we sat on a bench nearby-- it was an outside concert-- and were able to hear it. And not talk.

Finally, at 9:15-- which was an hour after I had met him at the union-- he said we could head back to his place. Either what he hadn't accounted for or simply forget, we still had a half hour walk ahead of us. More out of principal than for any time that was lost, I was pretty annoyed by the entire situation.

When we got to his place, he said something about sharing a bed. His bed was tiny. I told him the floor would be just fine by me, and he said he'd think of something. Whatever that meant. I was a bit nervous.

Finally we left for the bars, but the bars near campus were practically empty and the bars downtown all had £10 covers. In other words, food for about four days. Finally, though, we found a decent one that was free.

I got a drink for £2.80 and then tried to go upstairs, where there was dancing, but it cost £5 to go up. So that was the catch. Instead Salim and I just went outside.

Now, Salim is a nice guy, but the dude is an absolute game-killer. Not a cock-block, since he doesn't do anything adverse, but a game-killer because he just doesn't do anything. Any time I'd talk to someone, within five minutes I'd be aware that there was this tall dude sitting next to me and not saying a word. And he never, NEVER, smiled. It was terrible.

I did break through the game-killer, though, with a couple girls, but after fifteen minutes or so with each they told me to come upstairs and dance with them. At which point I showed them my wristband-free wrists and they said "then you'll never see me again." I couldn't believe it. The wristbands and the game-killer, it was atrocious.

After some time a pretty redhead came in-- of which, surprisingly, there were hardly any in Belfast-- and I was about to go over and talk to her when one of the dudes I had met told me that I should try to sneak upstairs. It was pretty obviously too late for the two girls who had gone up before, and I didn't really feel like going up, anyway, but the guy was persistent and so I went. And I did sneak up, but it was more or less terrible. So back down I came.

At which point, 1) the redhead was making out with one of the other dudes I had met, and 2) Salim was nowhere to be found. The first was devastating, but the second was more or less a very very bad thing. Since, again, I had neither phone number nor address.

I was looking around everywhere, and I couldn't find him, and now I was really beginning to freak out. For obvious reasons. But then the redhead threw me the biggest curveball of the night: "Well, you can stay at my place if you want."

Whoa. Hold on there.

Now, internally, it was a choice between all my possessions and going back with the redhead.

All my possessions. Or the redhead.

Luckily I didn't have to make a decision, because Salim came back. Since, to be honest, I was literally weighing both options. And, well, bad decisions might have been made.

Instead, Salim and I walked to his place, and as we were arriving he literally said "you'll be the first person to share my bed." Seriously, dude, no.

I took the floor.