Someone Please Ex-Spain?!

The one thing I still can't get use to is how late dinner is served for the Spanish, and by late I mean 10pm. This means that the nightlife doesn't really get under way until after midnight. So usually if you arrive at 9:30pm at a club, you'll have the place all to yourself, if it's even open. But once you're out, the night generally lasts until around 5am -- and FYI all you Brisbanites, I kept up with the Madrileños and didn't eject myself into a cab at 1am! HOORAH!

So on this one fateful night in Madrid, we decided to head out to an awesome club in downtown with the Italians. The night started around 1am. Actually the night started with 8 tequila shots and a round of free vodka lemonades.

One Tequila..

After the first three rounds of drinks, most of us were 'happy' and out came the dance moves and animated conversations.

Two Tequila..

Following the fourth round of shots, out came the karaoke, free-hugs-for-all and incoherent d & m's.

Three Tequila..

Fifth round turned out to be Jess' death of the night by tequila, she had had a little too much (actually rephrase: waaaaay too much) and so Koen taxied her home like a good boyfriend would. I heard stories about worried taxi drivers and puke on the sidewalk but these are still yet to be verified. I, on the other hand, was most definitely up for more!

Floor.

.. and oh, how I wish I hadn't stayed. As I was walking back towards the group after bidding Koen and Jess farewell, I passed a guy who was speaking really animatedly with his hands. Must be Italian. Anyway he was really excited about what he was talking about cos his arms were just flying around everywhere, it was actually difficult to get pass him. So I stood behind him for a little while hoping that he'd notice me and stop waving his arms around like a madman. Rookie error. His arm flew my way, and suddenly I felt this burning sensation near my eye.

"AHHH! MOTHERFU..!"

I stood there for a good minute or so clutching my eye trying to figure out what the hell had happened when Alessandro ran up to me to help. Crazyarms started apologising over and over again when Alessandro started getting all heated up. I had to break up an almost-fight! Grabbing Alessandro's hand I pulled him away and assured him that I was okay. I looked back at Crazyarms, and then looked at his hand -- cigarette. I got burnt by a goddamn cigarette. And guess where guys? On my eyebrow. Singed the goddamn hairs. I now have three quarters of a left eyebrow. And no, I will NOT post a photo. Thank you, Madrid - really, thank you.

Left the club at 7am in the morning - baby THAT'S what I call a night out! Despite now looking like a freak, it was one of the most fun nights out I've had since arriving in Europe.

And that's how it goes. The story of the night Madrid stole my eyebrow.