Tales from an American girl living in Denmark
Let the record state that Jess and I got kicked out of a bar in Brussels yesterday. I don’t speak French, but I read enough high fashion articles to know what “pour les hommes” means. And when the bartender is saying it in CAPS LOCK VOLUME, repeatedly, I know it means leave.
POUR LES HOMMES.
Also, Mannekin Pis really is as underwhelming as everyone says. The expression on your friend’s face being an identical reflection of your own incredulous expression, and the ensuing laughter, however, is totally worth any initial disappointment. And the architecture in the walkable surrounding area is very majestic.
I was wowed by the European Parliament. I stood there basking in the importance of the place while Jess gave me the stare. She wanted to find a McDonald’s. I love Jess, but half an hour later as I was waiting for her to get her “A McBaguette – European McDonalds!” I did my best to pretend I’d never met her. I guess I owed her one, though, after dragging her all around Antwerp the day before.
Our hostel room was ADORABLE. I’d be happy to live in a cute little space like that for a summer or sleepy winter. Jess and I took plenty of selfies – we were pretty slap happy by the time we got to our room.