It's Davito who gets the night started properly with his new phrase: "If life gives you lemons, make a Radler."

Radler agrees. "It's time to shake, Radler and roll!"

Since Davito and Mom check out after dinner, we head to Jimmy's for some drinks. The Timo offers his opinion on women who are slobs.

"If you don't keep a clean house, you don't keep a clean house," he declares, gesturing toward the nether region. Ewwww. I didn't need that kind of visual.

We leave Jimmy's after they play "Where is the Love?" by Black Eyed Peas approximately seventeen times. Headed to a bar down the street—some sort of sports bar that promises live music. And yes, there is music there, and loudness, and, my oh my, there are boys too. They're everywhere! Especially where we alight in the back room, by the pool table. Radler and I settle in to observe while The Timo scores us some drinks.

"Do you see that girl's weird butt?" El Dilector asks, pointing out a girl near the bar. Ooooh, she's talking to The Timo. Radler gives her the evil eye.

The Timo returns with drinks in hand and says, "Did you see that girl I was talking to? She has a weird butt."

I check out Weird Butt but fail to see why everyone seems to think her butt is so weird. I'm distracted by the boys and then Bassett Hound walks in. She was at The Londoner several nights ago. She looked really cute from the back and then she turned around and she had Bassett Hound eyes. Sad, really. El Dilector isn't saying there's not still a chance. She's kind of cute in a…well, Bassett Hound kind of way.

It's about then when Radler and I discover that though there are many boys in this bar, they seem to be all about each other. It's like they haven't even noticed there are girls around—except when a waitress is bringing another drink. What's up with that? I guess they are gay, celibant or really really into pool.

It's also then that we all discover that The Timo has a third nipple. Triple Nipple!

Well, then, of course, since there are no girls here for El Dilector (except for Weird Butt and Bassett Hound) and the boys are (see above) - we decide to head to our favorite place. Hey, if it ain't broke, why fix it?

At The Londoner, things are swinging as usual. We've got some people on chairs, booths, makeout corners and bartenders throwing ice. El Dilector is feeling rather off his game. I attempt to encourage him.

"Retarded guys walk up to me all the time. I still talk to them. And you're way above retarded!"

He's gone after my comment, heading for a cute blond who is all alone. Good boy! Now, as for me, there's no Dodi this evening so I set my sights on some cute boys next to the bar. Hello, hot ski instructor! Oh damn. Married. Well, hello, cute friend of hot ski instructor! Damn, married too! What's going on in this place tonight?

"Guess what?" an Irishman whose name I forgot—if I ever knew it—is saying to me. "I woke up today with a purple bum."

There's something you don't hear every day. And then—sweet Jesus, put it away!—he's showing me the enormous bruise on his ass. It's really quite disgusting and he wasn't lying. It is purple.

So, I try and get away from the married guys and the Irishman towards a boy dancing in a booth. Another score for me! I find out he's (1) not jail bait and (2) speaks English. He happens to be Canadian. Cute Canuck offers to buy me a drink. We're standing at the bar and the bartenders are putting on a show.

"You know what's crazy—we haven't gotten our drinks yet," Cute Canuck observes.

"Well, that's because they're dancing on the bar with toilet seats around their necks," I answer.

Uh-oh. Here comes Dodi. Is this an awkward moment? I duck out to go to the bathroom and suddenly think, "Shit. Is this the mens or the ladies? Where the hell am I?"

Maybe it's time to go home. Good night, Kitzbuhel!

-Shakira 02.03.04