did you like whiskey the first time you tried it?

It's amazing how a night can turn. What started at dusk with reading and sparkling wine, ended with 27 (counted) misquitoe bites and a group of new yet unlikely friends. After dinner of Penne with prosciutto in a vodka sauce and red wine of course, I began to wind down my night in a tradition I've recently began. Sunset in Roma for me means time to head back to the hotel, relax, read, write, and red wine of course. This practice I have come rather accustom to was joined by a few of the new roommates I have acquired. First joined me was young blonde couple from Australia who although they are charming and personable their names I can not remember. Then billy, the newest of the group, he is a man from San Fransisco who's family was from Bermuda, yet his dark skin and white eyes revealed that before he had the chance to. We laughed and drank until our high spirits bubbled over into the other rooms and our conversation welcomed two new comer's. Luvan, a Frenchmen working in Geneva at the most unlikely of jobs as an eye lubricant manufacture (i know right?) and Paul a New Yorker (to the bone) joined our humble group making it an outright party. It was at this time, I'm sure, that all 27 mosquitoes were feasting on my wine sweetened blood, I just know it. Paul suggests we grab a some food, "I know the place voted top ten of all pizza places, we goin? we goin?" Why not? , so off we go, me now leaving the walls of my hotel to see the stars of Rome through eyes heavy with wine. I order the brushetta, my stomach still heavy with penne and my wallet constantly bearing on my shoulders , at 2 Euro it's the perfect meal. Billy, as excited about the stuffed zucchini flower as I am order's it to share. Luvan and I laugh over each others pronunciation of sauerkraut decideding it's a funny word regardless of language. He's impressed with my demonstration of crepe spinning, a talent I knew one day would come in handy. It isn't until the pragmatic, New York suggests we leave that we head over to a bar called The Yellow that's just around the block. We traipse our way there giggling at the McDonald's we pass and how American consumerism touches every inch of the planet. Luvan makes a joke referring to "No child left behind" and points at the fast food, everyone laughs but the Aussie's, who must wonder what they've missed. Seconds after we enter The Yellow Room, Billy hands me a drink that looks like swamp water and smells like homeopathic medicine. "Just try it, you might not like it at first, I mean did you like whiskey the first time you tried it?" his valid point brings the glass to my lips. This cup of disgusting, is a British drink that is supposed to resemble Jagermeister, but does not at all. I hold onto it to be polite until he heads for the bathroom. I quickly tell the bartender of this catastrophe and he swaps it for a whiskey and coke, which after that mess tastes like heaven. Our group has again multiplied as two charismatic British Marines have joined us at the table.They are on leave from the military and have two week's off before returning to Iraq. He speaks highly of American Soldier's, saying that they are dedicated and if they say they are going to do something you can expect it already done. "but there also, a bit fuckin crazy, honestly." A bold move in the face of three Americans yet his candidness is welcomed. "Most of them get excited to be in combat and if they are ever at our base we much more likely to get shot at" I am a touch to drunk to say anything substantial, so I say nothing at all, just nod and try to wrap my head around the situation. As we stand to head home the Brit in a voice only intended for me to hear asks what I'm doing after we leave. My better judgement speaks before my emotions and I tell him we are returning to the hotel but it was a pleasure to meet him. I smile and meander home with the people who started the night as strangers and ended as friends.