Twilight Zone.

Tonight was just strange.

After hanging out with the neighbors and the three Frenchmen they had collected, I went to my friend Myke's barbecue. This would have been a totally fine and dandy time, except tonight was 'meet the girlfriend night.' Girlfriend is a wee-bit possessive (do you like how I downplayed that for sarcastic effect?) and Myke was a wee bit oblivious. I told him that she didn't like me and his response was 'We don't have those issues.' Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. I wasn't very comfortable and so I left.

I came home and partied with the at the neighbor's place. Besides the Frenchmen, there was a Spaniard, a few Americans, Romina from Venezuela, and Robbie- the resident of said apartment. The Frenchies were very nice, hard to understand at times, but nice. I have to admit though, I was proven wrong tonight. I thought the story about French people having serious BO was a myth. It's not. They don't give a f*. Oh, and according to them "'Merican wine is sheet, just plain sheet; not real wine." Fair enough, I guess.

Then the local train-wreck twenty-year-old alcoholic stirred up some drama. She said someone raped her (I doubt it, but can't say for sure). His little group of loser friends showed up to make a point. Train-wreck got all dramatic and hell broke loose. Such crap. I just wanted to enjoy my little beer, hang out and listen to foreign languages, and meet some new people. As the Frenchies would say, "Sheet. Just sheet." Damn juvies.

Oh yeah, don't forget about the cops showing up. That was classic. All the young'ns were running for the bedrooms to hide from the cops while Mr. Bravado decided to go and tell the cops that everything is just fine. You know, there is always that one guy that is sure he can smooth things over. I felt like I was in high school again.

Anyways, I'm off to bed. I just needed to put this in writing so that when I wake up in the morning I'll know it really happened. My life is very quiet and the whole evening was just a little surreal.