bartistic differences.

Apparently, it is not safe and harmless to flirt with bartenders here. While it is commonplace in most of the establishments I frequented in the states, and is practically the bartender's job to encourage female clients to flirt with him there, it seems in other countries this favorite pasttime of single ladies (on Valentine's Day, no less) carries other connotations. This vaguely reminds me of the rather embarrassing incident in Paris, where I was completely oblivious to the fact that Parisian women don't dance in clubs the same way American women do. Oops. Live and learn, and try to keep a little bit of dignity in tact.

It seems that every few months here, I must endure groping against my will, just to keep my foreign sense of entitlement in check, and to put a few glitches in the matrix that provides the illusion of trust and safety. There is very little doubt in my mind that the legal system here would pretty much settle on a "she was asking for it." And despite the fact that it makes me sound like a Lifetime movie victim, I'm not sure I'd disagree with them. On the one hand, I feel as though it is my responsibility to understand the implications of my actions in a foreign country. There may be some gray area between that and my right to control who touches me, but even in the markets here with vendors who have never met you - let alone refilled a glass of some effervescent concoction that they assure you is "better than champagne" - the idea of personal space is pretty nonexistent. On the other hand, a certain level of aggression seems in appropriate in some circumstances. On the other (apparently third) hand, I could have kicked him and made a scene, and I didn't.

So, in conclusion, shame on him, but I probably should have known better.

And a special shout out to my friend for staying up to calm me down.