Palinka Works Its Magic Once Again

Well I should be planning lessons right now, but I took some notes when I was in a cafe earlier today (I figure I should gay it up while I'm in Europe, and sit in cafe windows sipping cappuccinos romantically) so I don't have that much left to do.

Basically, yesterday was 100% hilarious. First, in the middle of the day, I met with my new Hungarian teacher at her house. She's the mother of one of my 9th grade boys, Zoli, whose English is really good, but he's a total spaz....anyway, so they met me on the corner by my building, and walked me back to their house, which is really close. First she and I met in her "classroom" (she's a private English teacher, so she has a classroom in her house, adorable!), and we discussed Hungarian business for a while. She also told me she won't let me pay her! I told her I'm gonna leave gifts around her house secretly.

Anyway, after the lesson, she took me into the main part of the house to meet her husband. (Their house is super nice....I guess teaching English really brings in the forints!) Then Zoli brought their little weiner dog in, and I nicknamed it "Virsli" (hot dog), which they all thought was hilarious, apparently. And then.....they busted out the homemade palinka. Oh lord. Zoltan, the husband, poured me a shot....and then they all watched eagerly as I picked up the glass. "Isn't anyone else doing one?!" I asked. "Well, I don't drink, Zoli's too young, and Zoltan is about to drive to work," was Nori's answer. "Well....Egeszseg....em.....re," I said awkwardly ("Here's to MY health"), and did the shot. It was really good, and strong. Then we talked a bit more, and I looked over at the glass, and...it was full again! I said, "Wait a minute, do I have to drink another one?!?" And Zoltan told me that it was a magic glass that refilled itself. So, I did the second one.

Luckily, Zoltan had to go to work and this was my cue to leave as well....I say "luckily" because as I walked home, the 2 shots hit me, and I realized I was pretty damn drunk for 3:30 pm. I decided that since I was drunk already, THIS would finally be the night that I went out and made friends! I went home and made myself a snack, and then headed to the town center to get a beer. I drank a huge beer by myself at the blue restaurant, the place I always go. I kinda hoped people would be like, "who's that obviously awesome girl drinking by herself? Let's go be her friend!" Not surprisingly, that never happened. And I also realized the place was full of old guys playing chess.

I paid and left, and decided to finally check out the bar that is RIGHT next to my building. I hadn't been there yet because, as previously posted, Agi had mentioned it was kinda seedy. Turns out "seedy" by Agi's standards equals "perrrrfect" by mine. I walked in, and some kind of alarm was going off. Seriously...I dunno if it was the fire alarm, or a security alarm or what, but I just sat down and listened to it. It was pretty deafening. Then I watched four guys poke a box on the ceiling with sticks. They finally got it to turn off. Everyone, including me, said "Eyyyyyy!" to this victory, and it seemed like a good point to make a friend, so I somehow struck up a conversation with the dude next to me. I was really happy to see that everyone in the place seemed to be about my age. I asked this guy how old he was, and I was right: exactly 25! His name's Tibi, and we proceeded to converse with the help of my notebook. He bought me another beer, and it must have taken effect quickly, because at one point I got really excited explaining what a home run is, and knocked over my stool. Whoops. He didn't even seem to care, so that was cool, I guess. Then he and his friend invited me to go with them to a different bar, the "Bahnhoff Bar," which, you guessed it, is right next to the train station. I agreed, and we walked over.

Ummmm yeah, another success! This bar is AMAZING! First of all, it caters to the disco-loving crowd, and they had a DJ....but it was no ordinary DJ. The guy playing the music was like 45, but the star was a girl about my age, who was singing the songs live. WHY would you need a Hungarian girl to do a pretty crappy job of singing ABBA songs when you could just play the CD? Let's not ask stupid questions. It's Hungary. Hungary does whatever the fuck it wants.

OK, so we've got hilariously bad music, we've got my new friends buying me MORE beers (I didn't pay for any drinks in their company the whole night)....and what naturally follows is me doing what I always do in these situations: try to start a dance party. This venture was somewhat successful, since all these Hungarian bros wanted to dance anyway, but there was this ONE dude in the corner of the booth we were in (whose name is Istvan, as I learned) who looked like he was having......nooooo fuuuuuun. So I, in Hungarian, was like (this is a rough translation): "Yo, what's your problem, son?" His answer (translation): "This music BLOOOWS!" I tried my best to explain that he was definitely right about that, but let's just deal with it and party on. He wasn't having any of that, so instead, this was the point where I found a way to take embarrassing pictures with everyone, including a somewhat surly Istvan. It's too bad I annoyed the crap out of him; I would've liked him to be my friend. Ha...oh well.

This was basically the extent of my evening, if you throw in some dancing and twirling to bad Hungarian disco (which also exists). I woke up SOOOOO hung over this morning and decided to do what I normally do when I'm hung over, which is to check my cell phone and see when the last text I sent was, to determine roughly what time I came home. The last text I had sent was to Istvan, across the table. It read: "YOU SUCK!!"

Thank you, Hungary! I'll be here all year, folks!