Day 12.5 : International Party

Lesson #2: No more “International Parties” Although I guess this should have been plainly obvious from the start.

I actually brushed my hair for this. And wore a sparkly, glittering sure-to-grab-their-attention-outfit. Too bad I wore my coat the entire night. Yes, even in the club

Reminded us of, (pick one) a)prom b)carnival cruise. I think I saw 2 people who were our age, and they were a couple. Have to admit, it was very entertaining watching this old guy w/an 80s Magnum P.I. mustache, jump around the dance floor w/his miami vice jacket–opening and closing it like a bird about to take flight. That and the old dude in a Structure shirt circa ’93 waving his hand in the air like a a)rodeo cowboy b)bad stripper. Alf was also looking pretty dapper in his candy cane shirt, rolled up high water white jeans (I told you we were on a cruise!) and boat shoes. And of course the crazy “question mark” glasses.

Needless to say, quick scan revealed no real potential.

Called it a night. Time to refuel, regroup, and reasses.

Heading to Houston in about 6 hrs or so. Am actually looking *forward* to this, as I am longing for anything besides SF men. Hopefully, I won’t be taken hostage by my parents, and will be able to perouse the local environs for more subjects. Would be good for the experiment…lil variety..lil shakin’ things up…

and of course, there’s always the plane ride. Please God, let me sit by some hot guy, and not some old dude in a business suit. please.

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