when young Bebop strung along, slowly, with all his might,
trying to reach the pub, trying to stay sober,
first went for a bite to eat while the night grew even colder.
He got him a young lass to do his bidding,
fill the little black book of leather and silk.
So she did, honestly, no kidding,
wrote the first line: I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK.
For she began writing after many o' drinks,
when they later went to Nott
to appreciate a different setting
to see another lass, to see what she's got.
She offered some tea, some juice, some coffee
to which he replied with a shake of his head
she shrug her shoulders like S. M. Gellar in "Buffy",
so he said he'll just have some cocoa instead.
---
Right. Enough of that. I'm clearly not doing this whole thing as bad poetry.After my very usual dinner at Ruunipizza, I got to Möku at about 8 pm and saw that much like the previous Friday, Kris and Rauno were working the bar. Even before I got to lay down my stuff, the two got started. Rauno offered a quarter liter of vodka on the house and many other things, when Kris said he'd give me a keg of beer. Now, you can get about 50-55 glasses of beer with just one keg, so it's safe to say that I was tempted. I could have just thrown my silly project out of the window right there, enjoy a cold beer and have a very fun night with some friends.
Some half an hour later, my trusty companion for the evening arrived. I bought her a drink and told her about the sad life of sobriety. Funny, if you think about it, explaining sobriety to a drinker.
The night went slowly at first, but at one point got pretty loud and the weirdest part about that was that the bartenders were the loudest of the bunch, having some sort of a friendly argument with a group of people. I didn't really delve in the conversation, but from what I heard, they were discussing comparing penis sizes with one's father. While this was weird enough, at one point they managed to change the subject to comparing pinkies and decided that they would hold a contest to find out who had the longest pinkie. They managed to include the whole bar and everyone would line their hand on the toilet door and Kris marked up the size comparison. Apparently I came in third of the whole group, Fred won by about a mile, the freak of nature, and Rauno got the last place, to which he exclaimed that a 'study' was held, that proved that statistically, men with shorter pinkies have longer penises.
As I got ready to order my next drink, I figured I'd have something I have never had at Möku. Something nostalgic, sweet and nice. I told Rauno that I'd like a drink and he told me I could have anything as long as it wasn't tea, coffee, juice or water. I told him that I want Lemonade. The original Lemonade made in Tartu. The good stuff. Now, as Lemonade looks pretty much like a strong cider, many people who knew about my sobriety pledge were surprised and wanted to know if I'd given up or something. So in conclusion: Successful troll is successful.
Right. As me and my trusty companion got tired of the ruckus the group beside us was making, and the penis jokes, we decided to leave. So on this Friday came one of the earliest retirements from Möku for myself. We left at about half past 10 pm and headed towards Nott. As it was pretty much freezing outside, we got a pleasant surprise, when we found Nott heated by an industrial-grade gas heater used to heat construction sites. This thing was pretty much a flamethrower and made the place hot like a sauna. I need to get one of those things. When not heating the room, it could be used to warm up dinner or fry a marshmallow.
The main reason we went to Nott in the first place was because I had some friends there, including Neidy and Kristina behind the bar. As I was on my strictly no alcohol diet and was drinking primarily tea, I asked Neidy what they had and after I heard they had chocolate milk, I couldn't resist, even though because of a minor problem with lactose intolerance it is ill-advised to have milk-related products. Since we figured we'd call it a night soon anyway, I figured what's the worst that could happen. No, nothing happened, you evil bastards.
Over the course of the evening I noticed that me and my companion for the evening have a very different taste in women. Whenever I would point out the good looks of a girl, she would disagree and whenever she would do the same, I would not find that particular girl very attractive. I can't say I've ever had such different tastes in women with a close friend before. Very refreshing, but must remember to not have her set up any blind dates.
I didn't actually plan to make a post about this Friday, so I neglected to fill my black book with all the things that happened over the course of the evening. Not that many things did happen. Anyway, at one point while already at Nott, my trusty companion decided that she would start filling the book for me. I thought this would be an excellent idea, as I've pretty much grown tired of doing it and sadly people weren't scared of that book at all. Anyway, as she filled the book while not very sober anymore, I can't read some things she wrote.Oh, she did however have fun trying some interesting shots. I bought her a Slippery Nipple, described in one of the earlier posts, and some time later a very interesting liqueur called Fishshot, which supposedly tastes exactly like Fisherman's Friend, if you've ever tasted it. Strong stuff, but very beneficial if you have throat trouble of some sort due to the weather being as cold as the 9th level of hell. Oh, and Slippery Nipple has Sambuca. Don't mind this last sentence, I'm just mentioning this, so my trusty companion can remember that she wanted to buy some.
We also thought that we should hold a meme party, where everybody would show up wearing a meme-themed mask and get shitfaced. That sounded more fun in a bar-environment than it does now, but it's definitely something to consider. Not before February though, I don't want to be sober for that.
So, in conclusion, the night was very cold, but also quite fun. We left Nott at about half past twelve and I got to bed at about 2 am, which is quite unusual.
By the way, as it would appear, this is the last weekend of January. As I'm probably not going out on Saturday due to my mother's birthday party, or even if I would, there wouldn't probably be anything to write about, this could quite possibly be the last post about my sad little project.
Next Friday will be the 3rd of February, so I plan to have a drink or twenty and celebrate not being an alcoholic. If I have proven anything to myself, it's that I'm not addicted to the drinks, I'm addicted to the socializing that goes with it, which is coincidentally a lot more fun when I'm not sober.
Expect a post about next Friday, as I plan to describe the end of my sobriety, or at least try to.
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