Background...

I'm going to take a little time-out here and give some background info. This way the next weekend's story can be truly appreciated. It's late July last summer and I'm traveling around this particular Balkan European country with my friend Judgers, who is probably the wildest girl I've ever met. Despite how crazy our trip turned out I would say it was relatively tame compared to what it could have been. We go to the beach one day and of course Judgers picks out chairs right next to a couple guys. I'm exhausted and miserably hot--all I want to do is sleep and try not to slide out of my beach chair. One of the guys comments on how exotic our accents are--sarcastically of course since they turn out to be ibankers from NYC. My ibanker in question is one of these guys and I'm so delirously tired that I don't even notice his purple short-shorts he is alledgedly wearing, alledgedly in jest. We all chat for the afternoon and make plans to meet up with them at the cable car later that night to go up one of the mountains. I know we need to milk this one so I hussle us along that evening to get ready. We still end up late and have to run to try and catch the bus. No bother as the lovely foreign bus driver still pulls away despite the two crazed girls running towards him. We end up walking to the cable car, looking like sweaty messes and too late to meet them. We take the cable car up anyway and lo and behold there are our bankers, along with 6 of their friends, at the bar at the top.
The story with these guys--all bankers in NY and they had been chartering a sailboat around the Adriatic for the past week. Their favorite phrase to yell out was "HALLO, FRUIT PARTY" and their anthem for the trip was No Parlo Americano. I was very pleased with all of this. We ended up having an epic dinner with them--me, Judgers and 8 guys. We were the loudest, most obnoxious table in the restaurant even when the waiters tried to punish us with a free round of shots of bootleg liquor. Though it did quiet us down for a full 5 seconds as we recovered there was no stopping us. Time to go out. We made the rounds around town. One of the shining memories I have from this is standing wearing my ibanker's sunglasses watching 8 tooly guys in neon shorts dance super enthusiastically to No Parlo. I also remember dancing my face off to the current Euro house hits at someplace called the Latin Club and deciding I was going to drink roughly 8 tequila sunrises (I never drink those). Nothing was paid for by us and fun was had by all. We ended the night at the boys' hotel in the center of town. I was told that Judgers left with a few of them to go swimming in the Adriatic and walked back into the hotel lobby afterwards, in her underwear, soaking wet and asking the staff for a towel. Her ibanker then decided to get the two of them a room of their own, which caused some confusion when I woke up in the morning and had to locate her. The gaps to this story were filled in by future meetings with the ibanker. And this is how we met....