Late-night Lebanese loser

It's 10:30pm and I've just returned home from post-work drinks with new friends and juggling cousin (who now lives and works very close to me since returning from his life in Germany). Walking home, I came across very dressed up women on their way out. You see, in Lebanese terms, coming home on a week night at 10:30pm is rather shameful. Here, that's the time people start thinking of heading out. By the time they shower, do their make-up and strap on their 10-inch gladiator heels, it could be past 11pm!

The bar we were at only had one table of punters besides ours, and only when we left did another group arrive. The DJ only started spinning his tracks at 10pm. The waiter sat at the bar yawning. Wait an hour and the scene will be very different. But unfortunately I'm still working on a South African clock, where I can't have dinner after 8pm, and struggle with work the next day if I don't shut my eyes at 11pm.

Or maybe I'm just a late-night Lebanese loser.