The other night English Teacher R1 and I ended up at the Club Rossia, the shitty cheap gayish bar in the reconverted Soviet theater. We went to meet a couple of girls that I know, but one of them had to leave, and the other one immediately drunkenly tumbled over the banister at the balcony and knocked herself out.
Amazingly there was no permanent damage, she got up and dazedly managed to walk out on her own.
After getting pretty hammered, I decided that I was going to be a good samaritan and dance with some fat chicks. (It should be said there weren't really any other good looking girls in the place.) I did, but of course before too long all the fat chicks were running and hiding from me. . .
So much for charity. Kind of reminds me of the time a couple of years ago when we decided to go hand out bananas to homeless people down by the central market, and ended up getting mobbed by several dozen gypsy children and teenage gypsy mothers pushing their snotty-nosed, dirty little babies in our faces and trying to pick our pockets.
Then a few cops came over and chased them all off with clubs.