Victory!
But our dominance was short-lived, and the pregnant chick and her friend ended up beating us, not unlike the fall of Berlin. The Germans consoled us and we went outside and ended up talking about G-spots and some guy named Hagen back in Deutschland who really knew how to find one on a girl. "Hagen daaz it real goot," I said, in what was thankfully the last inane thing that came out of my mouth that evening. We parted with the usual "keep in touch" stuff that never actually happens when you bond with strangers over drinks in a bar, and I went home, wondering how I could find a shuffleboard set for cheap.
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