So, don't ask me why, but for the last couple of days, I've been building up this little fantasy about my flatmate, Pegleg Pete.  And some of those fantasies have involved his drop-dead-gorgeous friend, let's call him Sinbad, the one who is here more often than not, and frequently spends the night in Pegleg's room. 

Now, when I called up to sublease my room from Pegleg's regular flatmate, Ms. L, she told me a little about Pegleg.  She said that he was very quiet, kept to himself, and spent most of his free time in his room on the computer.  She also mentioned that, when she first moved in, one of his friends (I'm guessing it was Sinbad) told her,

"Oh, you won't have to worry about Pegleg," meaning, I guess, that she shouldn't expect to be harassed by him... wink, wink, nudge, nudge... say no more.  She said that the same friend often teases him,

"Come on, Pegleg, when are you going to admit that you're gay?"  So, that's the assumption that I've been going on.  And the amount of time that he spends in his room with his "friend" seemed to back that up.  But after a while, Sinbad would occasionally make reference to his (Sinbad's) girlfriend.   So, it seemed that Pegleg might be alone with his gaiety after all. 

Why should this concern me?  Only because I have been finding myself increasingly attracted to both Pegleg and Sinbad.  Chalk it up to the fact that I haven't had a boyfriend since I left Thailand (and didn't want one for a long time, either, but enough's enough already), or the irresistibility of the unavailable, but the attraction (from my end) was growing stronger and stronger by the day. 

I've had a better rapport with Sinbad, partly because he's not shy like Pegleg, and partly because his English is much, much better than Pegleg's.  He also spends a lot more time in the kitchen (next to my room) making salads for Pegleg.  But I never got any particular vibes from him. 

On the other hand, for all his shyness, Pegleg has made a number of overtures that, while they could just mean that he's a nice and friendly guy, are things that I can't remember any other flatmate, or friend, or come to think of it, even lover, having done for me before.  Things just a tad above and beyond the call of duty.  For example, every time he runs out for a snack, he picks up something for me, too.  One day an ear of roasted corn, the next a slice of Czech honey cake... a glass of apple juice, a glass of wine... he even takes the TV programming guide out of the Friday paper every week and lays it down next to my bed, because he knows I like to watch the Czech fairy tales on TV (mind you, I can't read the TV guide in Czech, but it's the thought that counts).

And last night, I had to knock on their door to ask where the can opener was (yes, they actually have can openers here... look out Poland, there's no turning back!).  When the door opened, Sinbad and Pegleg were both on their feet, looking like they were trying to act "natural" the way you do when you've been caught doing something that you don't want people to know that you're doing.  And yet, as Pegleg handed me the can opener... I could swear he was checking me out.  Curiouser and curiouser.

Later in the evening, Pegleg seemed to be coming into the kitchen with an unusual frequency.  Normally, he might pop in once to grab something from the fridge, if even that.  But last night, he came and went at least a half dozen times, and usually with a friendly greeting for me.  Meanwhile, I was plugging away at my homework (I actually got a lot done), and feeling envious of the easy going comaraderie that the two of them were sharing in the next room.  I've never had a female friend that would come over and hang out as much as Sinbad hangs out over here.... just to joke around, look at stuff on the internet, watch TV, have a few beers, or whatever.  The only time I've ever had that kind of dependable companionship has been when I was in a relationship (with a man).  And I was thinking to myself that, even though Pegleg's not in a relationship, he's probably never lonely.  Sinbad is almost always here, they have a good time, laughing together, helping each other with work projects... and Pegleg's phone is always ringing, and I can hear him laughing some more.  He seems like a happy guy.  He's got just the kind of life I'd like to have.

So, I went to sleep last night with my little threesome fantasy playing in my head, and woke up alone again, naturally.  The guys are not early risers, so I thought I'd get a jump start in the bathroom, but there was no hot water!  I tried to relight the pilot on the hot water heater, but it didn't work, and then I remembered my classmates telling how, in the summer in Prague, one at a time, each zone of the city has to go without hot water for a week while they repair the gas lines.  I imagined that that day had come for Prague 4 and gave up on the idea of a shower.  Nevertheless, when the guys were finally up and about (around lunch time), I asked Pegleg about the hot water.  He said,

"It's very easy... come, come, come," so I followed him into the bathroom and saw which button I'd forgotten to push.  As the pilot flame came to life, he accentuated the event with a, "Voila!."  Then, we had to choose between running the dishwasher or running the washing machine, because there wasn't enough hot water to do both.  I voted for the washing machine, because I was out of clean underwear, and he said,

"Okay, you win."

Then, he let out a whole string of stuff in Czech, none of which I understood, and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or Sinbad, so I just looked back and forth at them with the uncomprehending stare that I've started to perfect, and Sinbad translated for me,

"So, the question is... do you want to go out to lunch?"

Of course, I accepted.  I quickly changed out of my pajamas and we went out into the scorching heat, up the hill, to a little park and an outdoor cafe next to a theater... not a car or even a street in sight.  It was wonderful.  So close to my home, and I didn't even know it existed.  We sat in the shade of an umbrella, and studied the menus.  Although I had an English language version, I took a gander at the Czech one as well. 

"What's this?" I said, pointing to one item, "Testicles?"  (That's what it looked like in writing).  Sinbad took a look and told me it was spaghetti.  Then he asked me,

What are testicles?"

Oh boy.  I had to giggle while I thought up an explanation. 

"Well, you have two, and he (Pegleg) has two, but I don't have any."  They had a good laugh over that one, and the subject kept coming up during the course of the dinner.

Pegleg recommended the Slovakian goulash to me, and since I'm half Slovakian, I took his recommendation to heart, and it was delicious!  Made with sauerkraut, kielbasa and some kind of sauce over potato dumplings... yummy, yummy.  Pegleg had a pasta carbonara of some sort, and Sinbad had some other kind of yummy stew, and there was a gigantic Greek salad for all of us to share. 

At one point, we were all sampling each other's food, and I watched with amusement as Sinbad piled a heap of stew onto his spoon and stuck it into Pegleg's mouth.  Pegleg scarfed it up obediently as if this were something that they did every day. 

"Hmmmm," I thought, "Maybe they are a couple after all.  Sinbad's girlfriend could just be a front."

But then, a few minutes later, Sinbad did the same for me, and my triangular shaped thoughts returned with a vengeance.  Then, I thought I found a way to get to the heart of the matter.  Pegleg got a call on his mobile from an old friend.  He talked to the guy for a while and then passed the phone to Sinbad, and while they were talking, Pegleg explained to me that this was an old friend that he had known for 16 years.  So, when Sinbad hung up the phone, I casually (or so I thought) asked how long the two of them had known each other.  (I was trying to get a fix on their ages, too).  They thought back and said it was about 10 years.  I asked how they met, and Pegleg started laughing and saying something to Sinbad in Czech.  I asked what he was saying, and Sinbad laughed and said,

"He's just making a joke."  I said,

"I want to hear the joke.  I think I heard him say something about a wife."

Sinbad answered,

"He said, I'm not his wife that he should remember the very moment that he met me."

We all had a good laugh about that one, and I thought, "Aha, maybe there's hope after all."  Sorry, botoni.  I know you were kind of holding out hopes for this dynamic duo, but a girl's gotta look after her own interests once in a while.

Then, Sinbad launched into a complete story of his life up until the time that he met Pegleg, starting with...

"I was born to a free mother."

"What do you mean, a free mother?  You mean she wasn't a slave?"

"She wasn't a slave to a husband, but she was only a slave to me."

"Aha.  A single mother."  I rather like the words he used to describe it.  It sounds so much more like a choice.  A free mother.  Single mother sounds like there's something missing.  But free.  Now, there's power in that.  But freedom has its price, and Sinbad's mother had to go off to work to make money for his keeping, so she had to leave him at an orphanage of sorts where someone else took care of him.  He says his first memory was of waking up on a table having his diapers changed and wondering why he was naked.  He said it was very traumatic, and ever since then, he doesn't like to get up before 11 a.m.  As a teenager, looking for a sci-fi kind of spirituality, he instead found himself among the Jehovah's Witnesses where he remained until he escaped to Magician's school at the age of 18.  It was there that he met Pegleg, who was also studying to be a magician.  (I don't know how old Pegleg was at the time.... I'm still trying to get a handle on his age.)

I just sat there, listening and watching his loose, black ringlets cascade over his shoulders, and his soft, blue eyes sparkling in the midsummer heat.  A feast for the stomach and a feast for the eyes all at the same time.  If I knew how to swoon, I would have.

As he talked (and Pegleg was talking at the same time... they have this habit of talking on top of each other, like an old married couple), I kept trying to give them equal attention.  The pull was getting stronger toward Sinbad, but I had a feeling this whole thing was set up for Pegleg's benefit... and he's so nice to me. 

Then, Pegleg's phone rang again, and this time, he said,

"My parent called and i have to bring them something."  So, we got up to go, and Pegleg picked up the check, which is something I'm not used to.  In America, even my dates don't pick up the tab.  And in the other countries I've lived in, my boyfriends were always much poorer than I, so if I wanted to eat out with them, I had to pick up the tab. 

I was surprised when Sinbad shook Pegleg's hand and said goodbye at the corner.  I realized he was going to want to shake my hand, too, so I transferred the napkin that I had absentmindedly carried away from the restaurant into my left hand.  He reached over to shake my hand, and turned it over and kissed it!  My heart was all aflutter and he gently and slowly released my hand.  I swear, those were the softest lips that ever graced the back of my hand.  I can still feel it... the cool, tender moistness of it.  And I want more.

Of course, it doesn't mean anything.  Hand kissing is kind of a tradition in this neck of the woods.  At least it was in Poland, but only among the older crowd.  I've not had my hand kissed by a young Slav before, and I've not had my hand kissed at all since I came to the Czech Republic.

So, Pegleg and I climbed up to the apartment, and I sat down at my computer, and he started the dishwasher.  He came in to say something to me, and , mind you, when I'm on the computer, I don't wear my glasses, so I can't see very well at a distance.  But I did notice that his belt was undone, and his pants were unzipped, revealing his navy blue shorts.  I guess when I said that more would be revealed, I knew what I was talking about.  Not to worry.  His next foray into the bathroom for his weekly bath (yes, I meant that literally), accompanied by the usual liberal sprinkling of grunts, soon explained his casual style away. 
And that was my Sunday.  I'm still savoring the memory of those sweet lips on my hand.