One night Mrs Didge and I went to a German wine cellar in Sydney's King's Cross. There was a live band and a tiny dance floor. The final dance was to Hava Nageela which is pretty fast at any time, but they pumped up the speed and, on that packed dance floor, we were motoring around at a speed that made it a wonder we didn't all end up on the floor. So much for the idea that booze impairs your ability to dodge.
Everybody finished on a high and as we all "Auf weidersehned" our way through the crowd, one guy said, "Non Allemande. Russki." So we ended up in a conversation with three Russian seaman (Matros in Russian was close enough to matelot for us to get the idea.) We didn't understand what they were talking about and they didn't understand us but we parted the best of friends.
I realised that night that the way to resolve the world's problems might be to get all the UN delegates drunk, pair them up with some vivacious dance partners, and pffft! no more war.
They may have been "happy and numb" but that hardly qualifies as the way to run the world. The next morning they will wake up with their hangovers and their bills and try and figure out the easiest way to pay them on someone else's dime. That's politics for ya. Hic.
Good story though, it sounds like you had the time of your lives.
Yeah, it was a memorable night. We got in a baby sitter, went to see Man of La Mancha, then off to the Cross to finish the night at the club. Some things you never forget.