Then, to add a little more indignity, we were told we could not take our vehicle to the apartment but could park it at the gate and walk up (yes, UP!) to his home. I should've worn my hiking boots.
This check-point debacle made our host J very annoyed and he vowed to "bash them" later. I wouldn't like to get on his bad side. He's a Marine.
I was about three million miles outside my comfort zone. This is not how I envisioned spending my sabbath. MM and I looked at each other then each dove in. We were going to make the best of it. We were there for J, to meet his baby son and his girlfriend and that meant we had to be in his world for a while...
So, I ignored the "music" and the alcohol and the abundance of skin and ink on skin and just started talking to whoever would talk back.
On the way home the kids said, "Now we know what beer tastes like!"