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Drunk French : Missed Connections

So last night EZ and I went out for a late dinner before the American team’s second World Cup game, set to start at midnight.  The destination was a British pub near Trocadero, to satisfy my weeks-long craving for fish and chips.

We finished dinner earlier than expected, and realized we might have enough time before kickoff to make it back to the other British pub across town we had watched the first game at – since they won, it seemed like the natural order of the universe would be to watch every game there.

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