I want to tell you about a guy, who I met on my 21st birthday. Well I actually met two.
The first is an ogre, (translation a large, gigantic man) and at first quite and shy. Give him a few drinks and he transforms into a loud, funny and crazy being.
The second guy I met I fell for instantly. We dated, it didn’t work out, and things went on.
In the meantime the Ogre and I became friends. Pretty good friends. Every time I went on vacation he was there, shuttling me around from party to party. One night we went out, and not wanting to go home I made him drive me all around Bandra on a bike. I remember at some point telling him that I had lost my faith and wasn’t sure whether I believed in God anymore. He stopped the bike and refused to start again until I promised to find my faith again.
Facts about the Ogre
The Ogre is a chef who does not cook. But he takes me to the best restaurants, where the food makes my mouth salivate in delight. Every where we go people call him Chef Ogre, which makes me laugh, and him irritated.
The Ogre makes me laugh and he likes to hug. And he’s been there to hold my hand through a few teary moments. He’s the kind of guy you can sit with for hours and never run out of things to say. On this trip we took a four hour boat ride, and we chatted and chatted. Anyone who knows me knows I like a good chat.
The Ogre makes me feel at home.
The Ogre’s favorite movie is “Stalag 17” a movie I had never heard off, until he sent it to me last year. I then ‘accidentally’ watched it 17 times.
I miss the Ogre.