AMerican. Squared. Part Two.

Breakfast was amazing.  Talking about it dominated my last entry. I'm not going to get started.

It was time to get to business. I needed a place to live. This 45 Euro a night business had to stop.  With my atlas stone in hand, I once again baby stepped about the town until I found an internet cafe close to Hotel Blanco.  

1 Euro for an hour. Amazing. This might be the best deal in all of Europe.  I take it back, I heard Prague was incredibly affordable.  Prague, the city we're heading to in a couple weeks!  Prague, the city I'll write all about and take hundreds of pictures of.  Yes, you should stay tuned.

"Sprecken ze English?" I said in my best German accent. 

"Ya! Zen zi Americana?" the clerk replied with enthusiasm. 

"Ja! Americana! Ja vol!" I said with too much excitement.  The clerk told me to use the computer first, then pay later.  Just like breakfast.  Do it now, pay it later.

I de-robed myself of the belongings strapped to my body and flopped into an open chair.  

"Hey man, are you from America?" asked a polo wearing brown haired guy in cargo shorts.  His eyes were big and full of hope with a slight hint of desperation. Much like my own.

"YES! DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? WHERE ARE YOU FROM? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? DO YOU REALLY SPEAK ENGLISH?" I had to slow down. 

"I thought I just did." What a smart ass, what a find.  I then found out he's from Tampa Bay, Florida.  He's here to go to school for three months.

Interesting.

"What are you studying?"  I asked while biting my lip to conceal my excitement.

"Advertising, I'm going to a school called Miami Ad School." Bingo. I found my american comrade. 

Then I found out the apartment I had lined up was no longer available. It turns out when I said we wanted the apartment, go ahead and lock it down; it didn't mean the same to Hans.  Hans, the guy you shouldn't trust to find you an apartment. Fiching weasel.

I had some work to do. Friday wasn't going to be such a carefree day of moving in then exploring the city.

I remembered at Hotel Blanco, the owner was talking to me about an apartment he had. I headed over there with hope.  Brian and I were seated in a room full of persian rugs and grand old wooden clocks. What is it about getting old and gathering clocks? Do you want to count down your life with company incapable of dying on you unlike all of your friends who are waiting for you in the next realm? I don't get it.

He barely spoke English, I don't speak German. It was a long affair coupled with extravagant hand motions, a lot of writing, and a copious amount of awkward pauses. It felt like more of a staring contest than a conversation.

After twenty minutes of this, I figured out they wanted 850 Euro a month for their cramped quarters without wireless internet.  "Too much. Too much." I said slowly as I shook my head.

Big surpirse: they understood this phrase. "750 Euros." He said as a counter offer.

"Too Much. Too much." I said.  The awkward silence ensued. We stood in the dank basement where the office desk was situated for what felt like eternity. 

"Ok. Bye now." It was over.

We walked over to school.  School was a half mile away, I had no idea it was so close. I also had no idea a half mile could feel so much longer with my atlas stone.  I need to get back into shape. 

I spent the better half of the afternoon making Brian restlessly hang out while I scoured the internet for apartments. Finally, I lined up a few. It was time to go check out the places and meet with the people.

Joe was flying in later on today so we had to find a hostel to stay at since we didn't have an apartment.  Hopefully, I thought, Joe will check his e-mail before he leaves the airport and heads to our non-existent apartment.