I spent an evening going along with every situation that came my way. First, I met up with a Spanish girl at the Forest for language exchange. There was an arts event on there; some zines were distributed and we watched a film about how to make a bicycle out of a record-player. #120 showed up, so I went back to his place for a potluck. After that, I was supposed to meet Frank at the Tron, where he typically spent every Wednesday night. It was packed with students and I couldn’t find him, but I ran into the Spanish girl again so I hung out with her and her friends, and we moved to Cabaret Voltaire after the Tron shut. I got into conversation with #124 somehow; he was French and had grown up in Algeria and we were talking about colonialism and what it’s like for a schoolkid to be on the receiving end of hostilities based on that. We kissed when we said goodbye, but I wasn’t interested in taking it further. After that, I was planning to go home, but I got sidetracked by a couple of buskers on the Cowgate who were playing acoustic Britney Spears and Avril Lavigne covers, so I sat and enjoyed the show. They invited me back to their place for whisky. “We’re rapists and murderers,” one of them added when I hesitated. So I went back with them and played drinking games. I did in fact make a move on one of them when I was leaving, but it was not to be. I got home about 5.