A Pajiban girl just reminded me of Austin, so here's me trying to give this thing another nudge towards completion.
On the 2nd day at our new hosts it became clear that the Burmese guy decided to become part of our "group". Which to me made perfect sense, since he didn't know anyone else in the city, and our couchsurfing hosts were mostly unavailable, but didn't sit quite so well with Gosia, who at some point started just ignoring him.
We started the day, more or less, by meeting up with the Pajiba people again, this time at a cinema with a built-in bar. It was sort of redeeming, as I actually managed to talk to some of them, hang out, and was introduced to the concept of filling a gigantic cup with a free-refill soda (Dr Pepper in my case) and dumping the whiskey you order at the bar into said cup. Daydrinking is the best.
The Pajibans (mostly writers, plus Ian) were a bit hermetic, but not unmanageably so, and very funny and friendly. Unfortunately, by this moment I remember absolutely nothing about the conversation aside from giggling at stuff and leaving the theatre feeling relieved that I managed to overwrite the previous evening so neatly in my memory.
We went to see some movies, but I don't even remember what they were. To be honest, films were the most underwhelming portion of the whole experience. I probably saw around 20 or so, but remember only Much Ado..., Don Jon's Addiction (which I think changed its title in the meantime), and Sound City. Oh, and Before Midnight. All good films, but I wasn't extatic about any of them.
In the evening we went to our first proper free booze party, using our hard-earned badges. As it turned out, it was also the LAST film free booze party of the festival, because fuck you Polish amateurs. When we figured it out, we decided that we have to get absolutely hammered (7 drinks minimum) to start getting our money's worth, and should possibly split up. Because a crazy night of casual Western Hemisphere...ean sex is just around the corner, and obviously SO us. Gosia went to dance for a bit, and I stayed at the table, downing gin and tonic like... well, like it was free. Which, coupled with my legendary hearing, made the following conversation possible. I swear I'm not making this up.
Tipsy girl suddenly plops down at my table and extends her hand: I'm single!
Me, befuddled: I'm gay.
Girl: You're game?
Me: Gay. G-A-Y.
Girl: Oh... I don't care, I'm engaged.
Me: Then why did you say you are single?
Girl: I said I'm KENDALL.
Yes. Then her fiance came up to us. I have no idea what we talked about because I was busy alternately screaming in my head for the ground to open up and swallow me, and laughing like a maniac.
Eventually we stumbled out of the club and sauntered down the crazy-crowded avenue to catch our very first night bus (aka the Night Owl) of the trip. There was delicious pizza on the way, and a general feeling of awesomeness.
The wait for the bus was absolutely crazy - it was cold, so people were huddled together over a grate that spewed forth hot air. And all the buses were late, so the crowd kept growing. Apparently ours was the most anticipated, so when it finally arrived - 45 minutes late - there was a literal stampede. I remember no longer being quite drunk on alcohol, but feeling my brain switch to a sort of elated full-reception mode. As in: this is so surreal, so outside any of my usual points of reference, that all self-consciousness disappears. Whatever happens, go with the flow, and take this all in. Plus borderline hysterical giggling.
I particularly remember the gridlock outside the entrance to the bus. A sea of people unable to move, being crushed on all sides by equally giddy, confused and disbelieving festival-goers. No hostility, just a general sense of "WTF, are we really doing this?!" from all sides. And then, in a moment of perfect, cinematic silence, someone ACTUALLY saying: Ok... who farted?!
On the bus, we strike up a conversation with a random girl who proceeds to give us tips on the best Mexican and Tex-Mex places in town. Other people join in occasionally to concur or disagree with her choices. She looks us in the eye and says that if we go to this one place, we absolutely have to get the "boom boom sauce" with an intensity usually reserved for passing down the last secrets of a dying civilization. She writes down addresses on the margin of a newspaper (along with "boom boom sauce", underlined thrice), rips it off and hands it to us.
I love her and everything about this day. I've yet to realize that somewhere between the stampede and our getting off the bus my badge got lost/stolen.