Spring Break Journal: Emi F. Nietfeld

Spring Break Journal: Emi F. Nietfeld

On the ferry from Tallinn to Stockholm, a very drunk girl grabbed my wrist and demanded to know where I came from. “Fuck yeah, America!” she yelled. She reached up and ran her hands through my boyfriend’s hair. “I fucking love you guys!” We danced with her Estonian friends at the Ibiza Disco on deck. My boyfriend danced with a blond who had a pock on her arm from the polio vaccine, until a skunk-haired girl yelled at them. We only got two photos with the drunk Estonian girl before Skunky tore her away, too, and bought her another drink.