You walk into the theater/classroom and attempt to get a seat where you won't see the top of another person's head over the sub-titles. You are mildly successful. Looking around, you see that you and your friends are the only Clarkies in the room. In fact, you are the only people who aren't over the age of 50. Wait, just as the movie is about to begin, you see a group of girls, who look mildly familiar, walk in.

  You settle in your seat. You are enjoying the movie, except one of your friends keeps poking you and asking what the subtitles say, because he can't see them. The old folks start giving you dirty looks for talking. After the movie, you and your friends start to leave. One of your friends knows someone in the group of girls that walked in late. Down in the lobby of Jefferson, everyone introduces themselves.

You start talking to one girl who seems like she could be a potential mate. As you are about to make a really profound point about the film, you start feeling sick. You rush outside and vomit profusely over the steps, in front of the girl and about 50 other people. Apparently the Bistro wasn't the right choice for dinner.