Last night comprised Pisco, Pisco Sours, pizza - from Dominoe´s, nonetheless - Salsa dancing (lesson learned: one lacking coordination and dexterity cannot gracefully grasp Salsa in one Pisco-inebriated night), and an assembly of four Americans, three Peruvians, and one Canadian. My traveling companion relapsed into a Vodka/Pisco coma upstairs while continued consumption and Salsa transpired downstairs. By 3am he had sufficiently recovered and desired an expedition involving beer and karaoke to sing Springsteen´s ¨Born in the USA.¨ I craved sleep. Drunken Patriot investigated Lima nightlife complete with American flag bandana adorning his head while I lay in bed like a drunken clam. The following encompasses his life from 3am-6am: My friend strolled the streets in search of a bar, coveting beer. In Lima, Peru, at three in the morning, locating an open bar paralleled the probability
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