Well, it's been a pretty good weekend. Friday night, me, my French friends Marion and Nicolas, and this German guy went to the Tunnel Top bar which was pretty cool, and full of other french people. After last call at about 2 o'clock, they kick you out so we went somewhere else, paid cover there, then quickly discovered their bar was also closed.
Now, earlier that day it came to my attention that someone stole the three Moosehead beers that I left in the fridge. This made me very upset because I thought I trusted everyone at the Adelaide. Marion told me that the culprit was this Irish guy we were all talking to Thursday night. After I went to bed, he took my beers from the fridge and drank them in her presence, knowing they were mine, BUT he told her that he would replace them for me the next day. I had already run into him that day and he hadn't mentioned a thing. Fine.
So I get back after the bar on Friday, sit down in the dining room, and who is there in the room but the beer thief himself. I figure, okay I'll give him a chance to confess. "I can't believe it," I say to someone I don't know across the room. "We get kicked out of the bar at 2 o'clock because they closed, so I come back to have a drink, BUT SOMEONE STOLE THE BEER I LEFT IN THE FRIDGE!" I announced in a loud voice. The guilty man responds, "Oh what kind was it?" "Three Mooseheads," I reply without looking at him. Silence. He gets up and leaves. There was no confession.
Saturday I slept all day, and in the evening we drank Stefano's special cognac and watched "Seven" in the dining room.
9:41:42 AM 
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