I open the gate and see a familiar face walking toward me.

“You look great.”

“It’s just the same outfit I had for the wedding,” Angie answers. She has on a simple black cocktail dress with a short pink cardigan. Simple, yet elegant, but it reminds me that I should bring my overcoat just in case the weather gets colder.

“I’ve never seen it before, and it looks great on you.”

She smiles, “we should go, it’s almost time.” I grab my keys, and the Mustang roars to life.

We stop by the Gypsy Den for a pre-opera caffeine jolt and ran into Drew, who is there for a completely different reason. He recently broke up with his girl friend, and he is there to tie up loose ends. Drew has changed since his return from El Salvador. He never would have put in the effort to—God forbid—be nice to an ex.

“Aleah has work till seven fifteen, you two are welcome to join me for a while before the show,” he offers. After Angie and I pay for our coffee, we found Drew sitting in the corner table, near the heat lamps. “It’s a cold night, tonight,” he remarks.

“You are just going to sit here for an hour until Aleah shows up?” I ask.

“Yea, got nothing better to do. Besides, it’s important that I get here first, so I can pick the setting.” I glance at his pack of Reds. He’s going to run out before its seven o’clock, but he’s probably got a spare pack tucked away somewhere.

“She’s a great girl,” he said to me last night over a short glass full of gin tonic, “but we just didn’t work out.” He paused to light a cigarette, as the Shin’s new album played on the computer. “I don’t deal well with commitment, even though I need it. She’s a jealous person. I mean, I don’t have much friends here, and she’ll still ask me where I am all the time.”

A few rounds of Guitar Hero later, while we are on our way to Alexjendro’s, a 24-hour taco stand, he confessed further. “And she’s not very domesticated either.”

“What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t cook.”

Time draws closer to seven, “good luck with your talk with Aleah, but we’ve got to go.”

“I’ll call you after, hopefully this won’t last all the way till eleven.”

The opera starts and ends. Don Giovanni seduced and condemned. The stars bow, and the crowd disperse. I get a half legible text message, not from Drew, telling me I should watch the Harry Potter movies drunk. I place my overcoat on Angie as we walk back to the car. It is absolutely freezing tonight.

“How are you and K doing?” Angie asks me, as we stop by In-N-Out for an after show dinner.

“Same old, same old,” I answer, “though I’d love to see her before I leave for Taiwan.”

“You don’t see her often, huh.”

“Not really, though we talk on the phone once in a while. It’s actually quite frustrating.”

“You should go for it. She’s worth it.”

“I know.”

After we finish the burgers, I check my voice mail. It’s Drew, “hey, I finished talking to Aleah, but I think I’m just going to call it a night. Tell K I said hi, and I’ll see you later.” I guess us Asians all look alike to honky eyes. Drew probably just doesn’t remember Angie, since last time they met was a while ago, and both he and I were quite drunk already. I feel guilty for wishing it were K with me tonight. I quickly wipe that thought from my head and walk Angie to the door.

Right now, I’m willing to give Harry Potter movies another try. Perhaps those movies are better drunk.