There's nothing like 10 short films about love in a foreign city to remind you that you're watching a movie without any friends...in a foreign city. The last one nearly killed me.
And then. AND THEN. I come home to this:
That's right. My flatmate filled my shelf with Stella! You'd think the other three shelves would be enough? Then again, having a shelf full of beer may not be the end of the world...
I was walking back from the movie theatre at 11pm, and somehow ended up on the road with all the show bars. I thought I had maneuvered it so I wouldn't cross them (I would've preferred avoiding drunken guys coming out of lap-dance-a-palooza), but no harm done. There were middle-aged American women hanging out of the next building/hotel, taunting each party-goer that exited the neighboring establishment with, "Good evening darlin'" in a light Southern drawl. god. I love being American.
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