The Next Time I Stayed In A Hostel...

I was in New York! The concrete jungle where dreams are made of! I will never forget the taxi journey from the airport to our apartment when that song came on as we cruised through Manhattan as the bright city lights ignited the city. It was enough to send chills down your spine. And it did! I was here!

After spending a few nights in the comfort of our apartment, under the hospitality of our generous hosts, I decided it was time to go it alone and experience what this city really had to offer! I wanted the Miami experience! I wanted alcohol fueled nights with people I'd never see again, I wanted to ask someone where they were from then have to pretend I had heard of it, I wanted someone to walk into my dorm with a bottle of Jack and say “lets get tanked up!” It may seem like a lot but it happened before, why cant it happen again?… I wanted to stay in a hostel.

I ran to the nearest internet café on 125th, looked online, found the hostel with the best reviews in the best location, packed my bag and jumped on the one train bursting with anticipation. I couldn’t wait, how many people would be in my dorm? Where would they be from? Where would we go out first?  What would I wear? All thoughts ringing through my head as I galloped up to a miserable looking old man, with grey hair matted hair, olive skin and a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth at reception, "hey what’s up" I exclaim in high spirits, with a tinge of an American accent which I had picked up from all the stateside sitcoms I watched as a kid. I had City Guys to thank for this particular dialect. I repeat myself, as by his motionless expressions, he couldn’t have heard me…. could he?  "Hey what’s up! I’ve got a reservation!" He takes my passports, grunts then hands me my keys.

AA - Automobile Association...right?

Still fueled by high spirits I bounce up the three flights of stairs to my room, I was like Tigger on heat. I reached the peak in about 3 steps, I push the door open with excitement to see a middle aged man on the bottom bunk reading what looked like a C.S Lewis novel.  He looked happy to see someone enter and we engage in meaningless conversation for 5 minutes. I then attempt to persuade him to come and chill outside. After realizing I’m onto a losing battle I break out my party starter, my crimson sword, my rocket launcher, my harrier jet to shake this guy into life! My bottle of flavored Vodka…Boooya!!! …"Check mate!" I say to myself glumly, I’ve been all around the world and not one person has been able to resist the taste of this delicacy on their lips…to which he replies, "ahh im with AA mate"…. I said "ahh that’s cool", blissfully unaware of the significance of the statement... "So you fancy a drink?" I crack open the bottle, smell the sweet scent of the marshmallows and exhale with a smile full of satisfaction…I gesture for him to smell it….

Not sure if this advertising campaign does any justice to my case , but  this is the best alcoholic drink...EVER!

"Alcoholics Anonymous" he replies “ I’ve been clean for four years” …I pause for a moment digesting the words which trickled out of his mouth…awwwwwkwarddddd…well this wasn’t going to work…. I picked up my bag, threw it in the locker, grasped my bottle of Vodka tightly by the neck (ensuring he saw me take it) and headed dejected to the lobby, to find two middle aged women playing chess! Where the hell am I? An old peoples home or a hospice! Miami this was not!