What do all of these have in common? Well, they either went on a date with me or.. . um… kissed me. The German you now know the story of, but there were other boys before him, and between the times I saw him. While Chris was unavailable due to flying, I continued to Tinder. It was more for company than anything else, and to meet new people. Luckily, I got some pretty great stories out of it.

I will first start with the Australian, who, as unmemorable as he is, warrants a full post just for the simple reason of THE DOOR. You’ll understand this by the end, I promise.

So without further ado, here is the story of how I found myself in an Australian’s bed… without an Australian in the bed with me.

Kryss and I arrive in Budapest and after exploring the city, we take naps because jet lag is the devil. We wake up, get ready and head to a quick meal before the free pub crawl. I order a burger and a fruity beer. The beer makes my stomach hurt from the sweetness and my burger is still bleeding. These were both disappointing but the fries were delicious so there’s that. We rush the waiter to give us the bill and head to the fast food restaurant where our pub crawl guides are waiting for us. They lasso some wristbands on us and we wait while a few more people arrive. There is a group of girls from England and we make friends with them during the night.

The first bar we are given shots and all I can remember is that they were spicy, like they had Tabasco in them. Pure evil. I scouted for boys with Kryss but we didn’t see any at first. Finally, two guys from our group head out front, the first in a wave of people ready for the next bar. I  start talking to them and it turns out they are Australian… and hot. Both of them. We make great conversation, and I know exactly how I want my night to end.

The next bar was the power hour so we were determined to drink as much as we could. I drank beer and Kryss and I went and sat with the british girls. As we talked, a group of guys from the crawl came over and sat with us.  I go to get another beer and see the Australians now sitting with two of the British girls who had gone to get a drink. I get my beer and slide in next to the cuter Australian. We talk and eventually his arm is around me. I can tell that one of the girls across from me really hates that I am there and stealing the attention. Kryss comes and takes a seat across from me. The night is starting to get fuzzy so details seem to disperse at this point.

Next we head to a bar that has go-go dancers. I sit on the Australians lap for part of the time and he gropes me but I am drunk and let him. I dance with someone at some point, although I can’t remember who. Finally, Kryss, myself and the two Australians. The hot one is named Shard, which I’m convinced is a nickname or last name. I can’t for the life of me remember the other’s name so we will call him Dave. We sit for a while and we are almost ready to go, planning on leaving before the final bar. Shard gets up to head outside for a second… or at least that’s what we think. After about five minutes we all start wondering where the hell Shard is.

This is where the night gets interesting. Dave, Kryss and I start wondering down the street trying to find Dave’s friend. We see pizza, Dave buys me and himself two huge slices. It tastes like warm, gooey cheese heaven. We head back the other way and pass the bar again but keep going. When we get to the street corner Dave announces that he ordered an uber and that Shard is lost because he only has WhatsApp and that can only be used on wifi.

Kryss and I go back to Dave & Shard’s apartment they rented. It is like a fucking mansion apartment. We don’t know what to do, but we find booze so drinking is in order. Kryss announces she needs cigarettes.

This moment, this is where it goes downhill.

Kryss is terrible at directions. I love the girl to death but I don’t know what she would’ve done without my inner compass. But I guess it would probably be the same as what she did at this moment.

She leaves us, but when she does, she takes a picture of the front of the door.

Bloody brilliant.

I am a terrible friend because I don’t realize she’s left until it’s too late. The door has closed. And, guess what? Kryss has the key. Who the hell invented a door that doesn’t open from the inside?! Apparently Hungarians did. This isn’t a door like you’re thinking, by the way. The door I’m referring to is actually more of a gate. It’s wrought iron and the spaces are way too small for even the skinniest of girls to fit through. It’s like what a screen door would be, without a real point to it. I pull at this damn iron relentlessly for what seems like forever but was probably only a minute before I go sit on the HUGE bed that was supposed to be Shard’s (it’s purple and lovely, in case you were wondering) and call someone. Not anyone that can help, of course, because no one can. But if I’m going to live in an apartment with a random Australian forever, I better get used to it and act like I’m home.

So I pull the covers around me, talk on the phone, and try not to focus on the fact that my friend is probably murdered and I’m going to die here. Tough shit to do when you are barely conscious form copious amounts of booze.

When I finally hear that magical sound of a door opening, I freak out. “What the hell? Oh my god, I was so worried! Where have you been?” a million questions flooded out of me.

Kryss shows us the picture of the door. “This fucking thing. I showed people this picture until someone finally knew which house it belonged to.”

I couldn’t believe it. She was back, and a picture of the outside door of this random apartment complex in Budapest was the reason!

A couple more hours pass and when it is about five in the morning, we hear a sound outside the window. I look out and Shard is standing below. “Let me in!”

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!”

He comes inside and acts like nothing happened and won’t tell us where he has been. It’s all a little weird. I go into the bedroom with him and let’s just say, it is a weird experience and I leave the room annoyed. I tell Kryss it’s time to go and this guy is such an asshole. She misinterprets asshole for abusive and is about to karate chop him in the balls. Kind of amusing.

Kryss and I finally leave and start to wander the streets. The sun is rising and the city looks unbelievably beautiful. We take a few pictures of the bridge, then walk along the cobblestone streets. I find a statue and take a picture with it’s arms around me. We finally hail a taxi and it takes us back to our apartment. I don’t even make it to the bed, it is seven in the morning and the couch will do just fine.

We sleep for a couple hours but have to check out so we wake back up, check out, eat breakfast and enjoy the company of the cutest baby bird eating all the food and then walk around a little before picking up Beth and heading toward the bus station.

It is an epic night, one that was better lived than retold. So that is the story of the hot Australian named Shard, and a door that is more famous than it should be.

And in case you were wondering… here is the picture Kryss found her way back to me with.

xoxo,

Katie