He ordered a mixed salad, spaghetti bolognaise, and a beer. The salad was small, as was the pasta, but the beer was at least twice what he expected. He didn't really want the bear, not after Friday night, but he figured he had to drink something. He ate in silence, reading a four day old copy of the USA today, happy for a few stories from home. Across the room sat two foreigners, that is to say Americans like him in this strange land, who managed to cross the street from their five star hotel and "go local". Other patrons were actual locals, deciding to "go western". He was perhaps the only who fit the scene, and he never fit any scene. There was most definitely something wrong with this picture, heck if he cared what it was. Mainly he worried if he had enough food. Worried that he had too much beer. Especially after Friday night. Too much beer can lead to, well, some things are not best thought about over and over. The two foreigners continued their talk, loud and confident as if they've braved a new world. How amazing they are, in this strange land, going around without a care in the world. Making it their own. Just like the one billion people who live here and could care less about them. Could care less that they will go back to their five star hotel, have a drink at world class prices, and reminisce about their day. All before retiring to their five star rooms with upturned beds and CNN. He paid his check, and stood to leave, the beer having a mild effect. His ears zoomed in on the foreigners as he passed by their table because no matter how foreign they were to him and this land, they were still something closer to home than he's been in a while. Like his USA today, they brought comfort and discontent. He met the woman in front of the five star hotel. No, he wasn't staying there. Just a convenient place for her taxi to stop on the way to their home across town. He wondered how to explain his beer breath. Especially after Friday night. When the cab stopped, he opened the back seat door to find her leaning on the opposite door. She wanting to keep her own breath away, not wanting to share a weakness. This is how it goes. The 30 minute ride home was filled music from the cab's radio highlighted on occasion with polite conversation.