Lochness/Twice

It's a "nightlife" tag--you know how few and far between they are! And seeing that this was technically my first night out since arriving in Italy (if you don't count the drinks I had with Pleuve and i calabresi), the bar had yet-to-be-set.

First, I started off my morning recounting my nightmare from the previous night to Posh. I dreamed I was in a Cambodian prison during Pol Pot's regime. In the nightmare (which I felt like I've had before), I was stuck in a tiny prison with a few other people. The only amenities were two holes in the ground. And for some reason, I had gotten to go home for spring break (wtml?!) so I was extremely unhappy to return to the prison, and when I asked the guard when I would be released he told me a date a few months in advance and said it would be a week after that date since they had to do paperwork. I felt so incredibly disheartened and hopeless!

Well, Posh, Rob, and I started the night early for Italian standards and I fell in love right away...with a cocktail! We went to the Lochness Lounge based on my roommate Kyra's recommendations (she claimed they made the best cocktails ever) and arrived around 9:15pm. It was empty except for the people who worked there. And it didn't reach "cool" capacity until 11:00pm. But that was fine because in the meantime I drank two of these magnificent unnamed cocktails and enjoyed the music.

Kyra had briefed us before going: you tell the waitress/bartender whether you want something sweet or not, alcoholic or non, and the bartender will make you a drink. I lucked out and had a peach-flavoured dream of a beverage (pictured right--it doesn't look like much but it brought my taste-buds very much bliss). Posh's apple-flavoured drink is pictured above left.

We left the lounge around 11:30pm in search of another bar or a nightclub. After peeking into a few bars (including Kakuya and Oibò), Rob went home and Posh and I passed by Twice. We saw a lineup and that cover was free--sold! At first no one was dancing but within minutes the dance floor was packed, and the ratio (get this, ladies) was probably 10 guys to every 1 girl.

Basically, once you hit the dance floor, you will be surrounded by men. Some were older and grosser (the two not being synonymous) than others, some were okay, and then there were some hotties as well. Guys kept talking to Posh and asking her where she was from (so they held conversations!) while I seemed to be getting dance-attacked by them. Anonymously.

In the spirit of me meeting men in Italy, here is an abridged list of the men I met:

• Luigi - yuck
• 3 other unnamed guys, one of which was an annoying one from Bari who Posh wanted to slap
• Francesco - a nice guy who talked to me while his friend was hitting on Posh and later served as a cockblock
• Matteo (with his pals Andrea and Michele) - nice guy from Pistoia who is studying law
• Marco - a guy who looked like a cross between Christian Bale and David Beckham
• Antonio - architect and handbag designer who moonlights as a jazz musician; we happen to have the same favourite opera: Puccini's Turandot

The funn(i)est part of the evening was when Matteo and his friend Andrea had me in a dance-sandwich. I kept exchanging hysteric glances with Posh (who was being chatted up by another guy) because of my utter disbelief.

Today's word of the day is discoteca. Enough said.