Looking around for an exit, I saw the frumpy girl from the table smoking by herself. I wandered over to her and asked if she was smoking a menthol. In an unbelievable stroke of luck, she was, and handed me one.

“So what do you do?” Bruna asked.

“Well, I teach a little bit, but I’m mostly a photographer.” I’ve found that in a foreign country, talking to a random person at a random bar, it’s best to use the sleaziest lie that I have the best potential of somewhat backing up.

“That’s awesome. I’m a photographer as well! I’ve got a studio right up the street!” This was unexpected. “What do you shoot with?”

I listed off a bunch of gear I could never hope to afford on the assumption that a bigger lie is harder to call out, and we argued for a bit over whether Nikon or Canon is better. Finally, sensing I was losing a handle of the conversation, I ended it in as much of a hip, over-it way as I could.

“Well, you know, the whole digital thing just doesn’t do it for me. Film is just so much warmer, you know? It definitely makes my subjects look so much better. Wouldn’t you agree? And, man, getting that little bit of grain? Phenomenal. What do you say we go catch this band?” I felt like a massive asshole. Oh well, what the hell. It worked. We followed Dan, Julia and company back downstairs.

We stood around as members of the band hung up sheets around the stage for what surely would be an epic surprise entrance later. James, who had been missing for at least half an hour, showed up and grabbed me to the side.

“Oh man, one of my old students is here with a bunch of friends and they want to party. You gotta meet these girls!” He had been dragging me towards their table the whole time, and his last sentence turned into a nice segue into my introduction. In the crowded room, the only people sitting were these four girls and, on the opposite side, Anna’s constantly smiling parents. Three of them weren’t particularly attractive, and their surly expressions were hardly helping the cause. I avoided their gazes.

On the other hand, James’ student was both quite pretty and laughing her ass off. We had one of those bar conversations where everyone keeps saying stupid shit just to keep the laughter going. We all got pretty offensive. The three mostly-silent girls just pouted.

“What’s the most awkward place you ever fucked?” James asked.

I was sure the girl was going to get pissed, but she just laughed and thought for a minute. “Um, I guess a park. What about you?” she asked me.

“A sewer.” She didn’t look as surprised as I suppose I’d hope, and asked James.

“Well, shit, I guess the most awkward part wasn’t that it was in the infant ward at the hospital. It was that the fuckin’ baby never called me back.”