Caught by the Fuzz

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Left Savannah this morning and jumped on the Greyhound for a 2 hour journey to its sister city, Charleston. On arrival, jumped in a taxi to my hostel, which I was disappointed to find out seemed to be further out of town than I'd first thought.

I couldn't check in until 5, so I wandered round to get some lunch, eventually finding a French restaurant where I had a croque monsieur and pomme frites. Which was delicious apart from the croque monsieur swimming in melted cheese and the frites being so salty, my mouth dried up just looking at them.

By the time I got back to the hostel it was 4pm and I was sat in the living room reading when a girl walked in and asked me if I wanted to write on cups. Always keen on a spot of mindless vandalism, I agreed, and discovered she wanted me to write facts about poverty in Kenya on a bunch of plastic cups for a party they were throwing tonight to raise funds for a school they were building there. She introduced herself as Capers (which I assume isn't her real name), and her friend Fritz, who works at the hostel (and never seems to wear shoes) joined us to help.

As a reward for my efforts, I was invited to join them and their friends at said party, which I did, and I'd like to think the exoticness of having an Englishman there helped raise more money. At least it would have done if we hadn't been busted by the cops after about an hour for selling drinks to underage kids. Luckily I managed to hide in someone's apartment the whole time the police were there, fearing I could be deported at any moment.

Got back to the hostel at around 2 and after eating pie Fritz found in the bin (in hindsight, a stupid idea), and helping the guys count their takings, I went to bed feeling good karma for my selfless acts this evening.

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Comments

[Pevensey]

You ate pie from the bin... I think it's time you came home young man.

[Peachey]

It was damn good pie. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same.