When I was 20, I spent the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college working in London. I lived in a dorm at UCL, and didn’t know a soul in town.
The second day I was there it was the World Cup final between France and Italy (Zidane’s headbutt game you might recall). I had realized that day that my dorm actually had a pub in the basement for students, so I went down to check out the match and try to make some friends.
The bar was packed, so I took my beer and leaned back against a drink rail. Most of the game I quietly drank and watched, while taking in the scene and looking out for potential friends. At halftime people started shifting around a bit to take a piss or get a beer, and two attractive brunettes wound up next to me. Both about 5’6” with C-ish tits and thin waists and legs. They were classic European girls who somehow managed to maintain better bodies than most American girls via nothing but cigarettes and caprese salads in London parks. Dressed sexy but classy, they instantly got my attention.