Strangers On A Train
Yesterday I met a Moroccan guy on the train to Wroclaw. We bonded over coffee in the train restaurant – we were both Couchsurfers, loved to travel and wanted to be free of relationships.
We sat at a dining table with a lovely young woman from Indonesia who was travelling to see the Black Madonna in some small Polish city. Soon she left and was replaced by a NZ middle-aged gay couple who talked endlessly about their travels.
We both go off at Wroclaw and due to the delay in checking in to the accommodation, went to get a coffee and talk more.
Devil In The Detail
As we sat there looking out the window, our necks were sore from the constant stream of women walking through. Poland was a fantastic country and the women were low BMI, attractive and feminine.
The topic turned to women and I asked him about his best story. He then recounted a story of his one night in Córdoba when he met a Spanish girl.
On the way to the hostel in a car owned by a Couchsurfing friend, he met this girl and they started chatting and got along quite well. The conversation was interrupted as another girl got in the car and sat in the middle in the back.
They arrived at the hostel and he got out, saying goodbye to the host who was going off on holidays.
He then said goodbye to the Spanish girl. She said she would walk inside with him to the reception. He had booked a bed in an eight-person dorm.
Just before they got to the reception, she asked him … a question:
“Have you paid for the accommodation?”
He looked at her … and realised what was going on.
The Devil In The Detail.
The Subtle Hint.
They fucked later that night.
It was fantastic, he said.
He still remembers it.