#42 THAT TIME I (KIND OF) HAD SEX ON A BOAT WITH ONE OF THE INTERNATIONAL BOYS
#42 THAT TIME I (KIND OF) HAD SEX ON A BOAT WITH ONE OF THE INTERNATIONAL BOYS
When I slept with my hot Eastern European neighbour of the “International Boys” across the street
Thank you to all my new subscribers; however, just as I had to write a disclaimer after my tribute to the legend that was Derek Leyland, I expect many of you have come here because of my tribute to my wonderful late Father.
I’m grateful for my subscribers but you may want to read some of my previous posts before you decide to stay.
Thankfully, my Dad and Derek never read my Substack. I’d have been embarrassed ever to have discussed such writing with them but they were both supportive of my dreams. My Grammy subscribes but never reads (also thankfully).
I write the content I write to be open, funny (hopefully), and helpful to young people navigating life and dating. It’s like therapy for me in a way, healing from the past, writing what I know. And writing about the journey that led me to the husband I’m ever so grateful for.
Here are some previous posts to catch up on.
This post is a paid post. I have only a few paid posts and paid subs get bonus material too but I’ll post a free post tomorrow.
Next post, that time I met this super-gorgeous man at Starbucks (aka the second person I met at Starbucks) but he was from out of town with “out of town” being Texas.
In my post about the air traffic controller (ATC), I talked about how I met him at “The International Boys” house which was on Slater Street across from my house. ATC was number six on my list (back in 2009) and Bozhidar, as I’ll call him, was number fourteen (in 2011).
A little Google search let me know that this person’s real name is of Persian origin with a surname that was impossible to pronounce but he was Bosnian like this other guy I used to tutor with at the Student Success Centre who I adored called Bogdan (like the character in Richard Osman’s Thursday Murder Club series).
I adored Bozhidar. He was sweet and friendly – a man of few words – but funny when he opened his mouth. He was game for a laugh. He was exceptionally tall. He must have been 6’7” or more. Besides one of my high school prom date’s brother, I’d not seen anyone as tall.
When Bozhidar wasn’t working, he seemed to crop up at all the parties I went to (if he wasn’t hosting) along with a couple of our other “International Boys” neighbours, especially around Halloween. They all worked at the local Greek restaurant for our little landlady. I think they had some sort of agreement with her but I’m sure he worked several jobs. He worked hard and played hard.
He had a car (which he claimed was on its last legs), a motorcycle in good knick, and a medium-sized boat that he loved to go out on that was parked at a local place that must have been on a lake or river that took you out to sea. All I recall was a long wooden pier.
I came home drunk from a party once and nearly jumped out of my skin because he was at my bedroom window. I was undressing with the blinds up because the back of the house where my bedroom was located wasn’t overlooked. I had four windows in my bedroom before the house renovations that added an extra bedroom to the house but three en-suites, so later I had my own little shower room. I liked to sleep when the sun was up and I liked to keep my blinds open to watch the squirrels and birds outside my widow. I never thought about privacy or that it was easy to break into my windows (not that that fact features in any of my stories – my stories have thankfully never been that dark).
He’d been locked out of his house and wanted my help and I suppose it was so early in the morning (i.e. 3 am), he thoughtfully hadn’t wanted to wake my house so I opened my window to talk to him.
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