lost in translation
Last night felt different. Good too.
I was at this restaurant at 11 pm, and it felt like a scene out of the film Lost in Translation.
You know that scene where you (read Charlotte) are at the hotel restaurant or bar. It’s half empty, you’re on a high stool or not. Someone is singing 90s R&B, or a band is playing live.
You’re drunk, your tummy is full, and your heart is bursting with tipsy happiness.
It feels like you’re stuck in this moment here, so you stay. Until the waiters start clearing away the other tables.
They bring you your second cocktail of the night, and you’re giggling uncontrollably while taking pictures with your digital camera.
It feels like you are in Japan. Kyoto. And time has slowed down. But the restaurant is closing.
You want this moment to stay, and not be lost in translation.
