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一九九五年六月,开普敦——出了点问题。有人被反锁在厕所里。楼上的洗手间锁了,弗兰克带着钥匙没了踪影。门口一阵小小的骚乱,几个喝得醉醺醺、口红都渍了的女人,歪斜着假发砰砰地砸门。聚会总要落到这一步——人们醉得不成样子,已经不是在找乐子了;臭烘烘的陌生人在你床上呼呼大睡;烈酒给喝得精光,只剩下塞奇威克酒厂的棕色雪莉和一箱甜白葡萄酒;你意识到室友全都溜了,这里的烂摊子整个归你收拾;唱碟播放师瘫倒在立
Cape Town, June 1995 - something went wrong. Someone is locked in the toilet. Upstairs toilet lock, Frank disappeared with the key. A small riot in the front door, a few drunk, lipsticky woman, skew wig banging the door. There’s always a party to get together - people are not as handsome as they are, they are not looking for fun anymore; stinking strangers whirring in your bed; spirits giving their drink, leaving only Sedgwick Factory brown Shirley and a box of sweet white wine; you realize that roommates are all slipped, the mess here, the whole pack you up; disc player division collapsed in legislation