Uncle Antal Saves the Day
we sat at the romanian border for three hours while the romanians figured out what to do with me, and then, finally we were allowed to visit the romanian (no)service station from hell... where we were locked out of the bathroom until uncle antal stormed up to the attendant and asked if she had a permit. after which, she hurriedly unlocked the bathroom door. but of course, by that time, half the occupants of the bus had already gone to piss out back of the service station.
shoulda pissed *on* it, said i, which comment forever endeared me to the citizens of the village of jobbagytelke and scored me many invitations to comeandstay.
and thus, under the able leadership of uncle antal and fortified with just the teeniest smidgen of homebrew palinka, we left the border and roared onward, down the cracked and rutted roads of transylvania.
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