Only in Berlin.

The waitress at the pub came to my table with a third glass of beer. She leaned in close to me and said into my ear, "With compliments from the gentlemen over there." She motioned with her head toward a table across the room, at which sat two young men. They leered at me. I actually thought they were quite good-looking. Until I noticed a stack of pamphlets and a collection box between their steins. I finished up my own drink and left the pub without touching what they had sent me, though I strongly fancied the idea of strolling over and dumping it in their laps. But, of course, I do value my physical well-being. So I walked a slightly wavering line to the next pub, and wished for no more compliments.

(no subject)

*one eyelid opens, the other pressed closed against the pillow*

*croaks:* Mein Gott.

*lies still for a moment, with one arm dangling over the edge of the bed*

Wait...what happened?

*rolls over onto his back and rubs his face*

What am I-? How did I-?

*sits up slowly so the room won't spin*

I know I still had my shirt on when I came back from the last pub. I was not that drunk. Or was I? And who-? ...Rosie. Was that another dream or...?

At least my belt is still buckled and my fly still buttoned.

*pauses*

Speaking of which, a trip to the loo is in order.

*rushes out of the room and down the hall*