All night long follow-up

So for our one English speaking reader this entry will be in English. We will only appologize once for our bad spelling and use of grammar. Sorry.

So we were supposed to hit the town a few nights ago. Well it didn’t quite go down the way we planned… We went to the very cool and trendy Meatpacking district and headed for what we had heard to be Jay-Z’z club. Well for starters we never made it to that club (found out later that we actually must have passed it without noticing it), but determined to make this a memorable night out we kept walking. And finally landed in this fancy place called Pastisse (any Sex in the City-lover will have heard of this place). We sat down by the bar and tried to order ourselfs a drink. The bartender was very polite and chitt chated for a while before asking for our IDs. Since we thought this to be a crazy night out we just brought a camera, a metro card and some cash. Neither one of us thought that you, in this country, would have to show ID in a bar. So we tried playing the Swedish card: ”Oh really you need an ID? Well we didn’t know, we are from Sweden”. *blink blink big blue eyes. He was not impressed and we tried sneaking out looking like we had somewhere else cool to go.

So we tried the next place. This time with the same feeling as when you were 17 trying to get in to the club. So we came up with a strategy: jackets off, looking determined and not ordering drinks but wine – no 17 year old orders wine. This time we didn’t even make in through the door.

Yes that is where our crazy all night long out story ends. We ended up on a diner ordering nachos and soda –to scared to even try to order a beer.

Conclusion of the day: It’s not how old you are that counts it’s how old the bartender thinks you are.