We decided—after Summer had overcome her glorious bout of food poisoning—that it was time to go out in the adorable town of Siem Reap. We went to a Mexican Restaurant (in desperate need of a little ethnic variation) with $1 margaritas and delicious fish tacos. We then walked around ‘Pub Street’ enjoying the loud music and flashing lights that were so devoid in Phnom Penh. The large street was lined with bars and restaurants, overdone Cambodian women and skinny tightly clothed men beckoning us into their Western- filled establishments. We stopped to get manicures and pedicures because they were only $5 all together. I guess you get what you pay for, though, because after thirty minutes of my highly strung lady using the cuticle tool sadistically like a murder weapon on my poor bleeding fingers and toes, she threw on some horribly done polish and ignored me while she chatted away to her friend. Meanwhile, I look over and Summer’s flamboyantly gay Cambodian man is perfecting her beautiful mani/ pedi making sure she is comfortable and inspecting each nail, as if under a microscope, to utter flawlessness. I glared at my nemesis as she blatantly spoke of the large tip she expected and as a Western boy was pulled in the back behind the dirty, acetone-smelling curtain for what we can only assume was a ‘happy ending’. I stormed out quite unhappy indeed, while Summer marveled at the magnificent job of her sparkling nails. I was irritated until a thirty second complete blackout of the entire city found Summer and I clinging on to each other for dear life, laughing in confusion and gaiety. Every light of the once vibrant street went out, immersing the happy partygoers in complete darkness, blacking out my anger and smudged toes, until my mood lifted abruptly with the lights. We held hands and trudged through the blaring streets still loving Siem Reap.