_The Bazbus is awesome, but it totally sucks when you’re sandwiched in between a British scuba diver and an American teacher without any room to spread out while Cool Runnings is playing. Luckily we stopped to let some people off and I got some room to spread out, or I might have died.

_I got to the backpacker pretty late, but was determined to get drunk. I was also really really tired, so I didn’t make it out of the backpacker’s bar, but that worked out. Someone broke a bottle in the liquor fridge and in the process of cleaning it out, the bartender/manager guy found some bottles of Polish swill that weren’t on the books. We did the only responsible thing and drank them both.

_After sleeping away the hangover, I went out onto Long Street to do the tourist thing. I got some lunch that actually had flavor, was real food and involved no meat whatsoever. I didn’t know you could get that in South Africa. I took some pictures of Long Street, stopped in the Adult World porn store and found out that some of the Frenchies on exchange at Rhodes were staying at the same backpacker as me. I had plans to go out to some club that night and it turns out that the Frenchies had the same plans.

_So I waited in the bar, played with the bartender’s cat and had a couple while the Frenchies did the tourist thing. When they got back we headed out to Claremont to go to this place called Tiger Tiger. Once there we met up with Gregoire and proceeded to down shots of Olmeca tequila and Black Label beers like they were going out of style.

_Now, here’s something you should all know about Cape Town: everyone is gorgeous. I’m not entirely sure if it’s because they don’t allow ugly people, or if they just haven’t heard of ugly people yet. It could be either or.

_But despite the fact that everyone is ten times hotter than 90% of the United States, they were all dressed exactly the same. The guys all had jeans and button downs and the girls were all wearing variations of the exact same dress. It was the least diverse crowd of good looking people ever. So I kinda felt like a tool because I was dressed exactly the same as them. I took solace in my tattoo. As soon as you find yourself in a nightclub in Cape Town surrounded by people better looking than yourself wearing the same outfit as you, it’s comforting to know that no matter what, you will always be different from them, thanks to that patch of ink chiseled into your chest.

_So we danced and got drunk and, as always, wondered why the DJ randomly switched from awesome dance music to dance versions of bad nineties rock songs halfway through the night. When we spent most of our cash we called the cabbie, who the Frenchies loved because he was playing the French version of Frank Sinatra on the way over, and headed home to get drunk in the backpacker’s bar and pass out.

- Kid