I was staring out the window

thinking of a title for this blog for 4 minutes, then decided to just give up. The title isn't what actually matters, it's the contents. That being said, I'm starting to write this shortly before 10:00 a.m. when it's probably around 3:00 a.m. on the east coast of the U.S., and when anyone in America starts reading this, I'll probably be on a train from Frankfurt to Berlin. No, I have no idea where I'm going, what I'm doing, or where I'm staying there, but whatever I do I know it will be fun.
So far in Frankfurt I've met a lot of really cool people. Stephanie, the girl I'm staying with has to be one of the nicest people that I have ever met, I can't thank her enough for opening up her apartment, letting me use her shower and computer, and overall just being a great host. I've known her for 2 days, but I'm going to miss her, that's for sure.
My first night here I went out alone, Stephanie had to work at 8:00 a.m., and it was a Saturday, I was jet-lagged, so I did what anyone in my situation would do: I went clubbing, because, well, I like electronic beats, and clubbing, and I'm no where near home, so why the hell not? I got to the club far to early, had far to little cash, met 5 beautiful women, and I think I have a travel partner to Berlin, but I have no idea where I'm going or what I agreed to with a Ukranian girl named Anastasiya. I walked back to Stephanie's alone at 4:00 a.m., and felt completely safe in the streets of Frankfurt. Last night, however, I felt less safe at 10:00 p.m. after being hustled by a prostitute, and yelled at when I refused cocaine when all I wanted to do was walk along the river and take pictures, but never even made it to the river. Tip of advice if you're ever in Frankfurt: if a girl asks if you'll buy her a drink, it'll cost ýou €40,00. You won't get anything either unless you buy a cheap €100,00 bottle of champagne. I spent the equivalent of $60.00 on a beer, and a light grope. I spent less at a club, met more women, and had 2 Thai girls singing "American Boy" in my ears while I got a massage. Moral of the story is go to clubs, not whores. More fun, less money, ends the same.