25 September 2008: Budapest, Hungary

David woke me up at 10:05 this morning, which was exactly five minutes too late to get the free breakfast downstairs. Lovely. He was off to an internet cafe, and I took the opportunity to scram.

I went to try to find a hostel, but the first one was much too expensive. However, the guy at the desk let me use the internet to look for other places, and so I made a list of eight hostels under 2500ft, figuring one would have space. And actually cost under 2500ft.

(Along the way to this next round of hostels, incidentally, I stopped off for some Chinese food for 650ft. Surprisingly good. And not bad for just over four dollars.)

Of the eight hostels, the cheapest ones I could find were 2200ft, 2250ft, and 2300ft. I went with the 2300ft because the girl at the desk was cute, and this decision basically was what decided how the rest of my time in Hungary would go. As you shall see.

I was talking to the girl at the desk and I explained how I was looking for a job. Any job, really, but a hostel job would be ideal. The girl said there wasn't anything available there, but she called another hostel and told me to go and talk to the girl there.

So I went and spoke to the girl who was working, who said that she was possibly getting a new job the following Monday and, if she did, I could have her old job. I wasn't exactly sure how she could make that decision just like that, but never look a gift horse in the mouth. Although it doesn't hurt to question the gift horse once in a while.

The girl, Szylvia, spent about half an hour looking for other jobs for me, because I guess when you work 12-hour shifts it's not exactly like you're crunched for time to do things. She couldn't find anything, but was confident that she would be getting this new job and that I, in turn, would get her current job in the hostel.

(The thing about working in the hostel, you see, is that it's the only workplace I can think of where you don't need to know the local language at all. Since, in Hungary, there aren't going to be any Hungarians coming in, just people who likely speak at least a measure of English.)

Anyway, I was pumped about the job. Not so much for the 12-hour shifts-- although it's not like you're really doing anything, you would probably spend ten of those hours sleeping and wasting time on the internet-- but because it pays 6000ft per shift. That's only 500ft an hour, which is just over three bucks, but I really don't need anything more than that. Just money for a bed and food and drinks. And not a penny more.

So I went back to the hostel feeling pretty good, and bought a bag of frozen chicken nuggets for dinner for 350ft. Mostly because I was prepping myself for life in the hostel, in Budapest, as opposed to life floating around, in Ireland. And cooking frozen food that you've bought for yourself is sorta what you do in hostels. Even when you have to microwave the frozen chicken nuggets. And even when they might have actually been fish.

While I was eating, two German girls and an American girl arrived at the hostel, having been out for the day. They were very friendly, and one of the Germans had a great laugh. And then one of their friends came over, who was an incomprehensible douchebag. Or, as the American put it, a twit.

We brought back some beer and wine and sat around drinking, because the American girl was waiting for her Irish boyfriend to arrive. Although the term "boyfriend" might be generous. She had gone to Ireland to teach acting with her then-boyfriend, and when they broke the Irish guy swooped right in and picked things up. That was a couple months ago, and they were apparently inseparabale while they were in Ireland. The girl was traveling, though, and hadn't seen him in a while, so he was coming to Budapest for her birthday, which was the next day.

Except he was late. By a lot.

So we just sat around, me and the Germans and the American and the twit, drinking and waiting for the boyfriend to arrive. And, really, it was a blast. I had spent all day walking, so I was perfectly content with staying in and laughing and not doing much of anything. Which is exactly what we were doing.

Finally the boyfriend showed up, and it was like New Year's Eve at midnight. Hugs all around, since we all felt like we knew the guy. I mean, it was really pretty hilarious since we'd never seen the guy in our lives but, at least speaking for myself, I wouldn't have been any more excited if Chris Tucker had showed up. And you know how much I love Chris Tucker.

But the thing about the boyfriend was that he NEEDED to go to a bar and drink. I mean, there was no way around it. I actually felt pretty bad for the American girl, since she had been worried sick about him because he was late and he barely even seemed happy to see her. He wouldn't talk about getting a drink.

So they went, and I wanted to stick around and hang out with the German girls, but the twit insisted I come. I think mostly because he realized they liked me more than him, and he was their friend to begin with. I didn't really care so very much, so I went along, but we tried to find a bar the twit said "was awesome" and when we were still walking half an hour I turned around and went home. And the Germans were asleep.

What a bust. But what fun it had been, too.