No more breakfast club

Last Saturday was strange. I was feeling down, no prospects, no nothing. As I went to sleep at 11pm the day before, at 7am I was wide awake. But it was fucking Saturday and I refused to get up before 9am. At this hour I got up and made myself a coffee. Listened to the radio, smoked. It was a beautiful morning and it was already hot. I went back to my room and started studying - revising - all Polish lessons I'd had so far. All that fucking endless cases. "Mam nowego zajomego", "To jest moj nowy znajomy", "Czy masz ochote na piwo?" (this 'e' at the end has a "cedilha" sign). "Jakie waglandy? Przystojny? Szczuply? Ma okulary? Czym sie Interesuje?" Fucking L man...
I studied for three hours and couldn't stand seeing another word in Polish. I had lunch, sorted out some things in my computer, burned a CD for Junior and washed my clothes. By then the weather was shit. You guys have no idea how hot it is here. Porto Alegre hot. Amazonas hot. It's definitely hot. And it's gonna get worse...
Junior came back from his classes, he was stressed out because he'd had a row with one of the other teachers. He went over to Suzana's place, her mother had died the night before. I went to the market to buy the generic RedBull and some beer. I decided to buy one Zywiec for me and the rest was Tatra. It was 6:30pm and it was so hot that I opened up one can. It was good. I decided to open up a second one. "Czemu nie?" (Why not?) Junior and Patricia arrived and we had some more beer. We called Nazira. He brought vodca and RedBull. We fired up Madonna's DVD. Junior had his dancing shoes on. By 9:30pm I was already feeling good. I went to Zabka for for beer and vodca and could listen to Moby DVD from downstairs.
We kept listening to electro, Smiths, OMD, Depech Mode, everything. Patricia got depressed and started crying. We all drank almost everything inside the house. Loud music. Dance steps. Elaborate dance steps. I kissed the floor and somebody picked me up.
I don't remember getting in the cab, getting in Cocon, getting to the dance floor. Patricia said she had to puke and we went to the bathroom. I hate people who can't hold their liquor, man... We spent almost half hour in that fucking bathroom, with people almost invading it because they wanted to use it. I finally got her out of there, but them she saw Junior and asked him to go with her to the bathroom again. This time they spent almost an hour there. He wanted to kill her. Nazira was chatting up a girl, I was dancing and controling myself not to fall on the floor again. Nazira bought me some water. The drunken EW wanted to go to Kitsch and I thought 'What the hell does she wanna do there? She can barely stand'. I was enjoying it all along. They even played 'Erotica' from the Confessions DVD. Junior and I went to the bar on the balcony to buy some beer and he started staring at one guy, but the guy was with somebody. Then, the boyfriend came to me talking in Polish.
"Nie mowie po polsku" I said.
"Ok, so tell your friend that he can go to the dance floor right now and stop looking at my boyfriend"
I passed on the message and of course Junior refused to move from there, until eventually the guys were gone.
Way after Patricia and Nazira left, I went home to do my early morning bailinho. A while after Junior came home with somebody and said 'turn up the volume'.
I did it, listening to Foo Fighters and Duran Duran. Loud. I don't know, I think it was 7am, 8am...
I went to sleep and at 4pm they woke me up for lunch, Nazira had joined us. We listened to a lot of Brazilian music, then Blind Melon, Evita...
We went to Kolory at 9:30pm, drank a beer. It was funny, Nazira is funny. We laughed a lot and I would've stayed there if I wasn't so fucking tired.
On Monday we got the news: somebody had complained about the loud music that had been played for a long time. The landlady got pissed.
No more breakfast club. No more chill in. Crap.