For new years we had some work colleagues over — about six people. We drank beers and ate indian food and danced to indian music. They taught us various bollywood dances so now we can slap on our hair gel and put on our tight, tight jeans and go to the clubs and look awesome.
Jenny shouted “happy new year” from our terrace at passing rickshaw drivers. And then she cursed at them when they didn’t shout back.