I got off work after 7 pm and as usually didn't really have a clue where I should eat. While I slowly made my way towards Möku, I figured I should go to Crepp, as I haven't been there in a while, but once I got there, I noticed it was quite crowded, so I gave up on it and went to Möku.
I got to Möku at about 19.30 feeling quite annoyed at the fact that I have to be sober for the next 4 and a half hours. At this point I was completely fed up with this project-thing-whatever.
When I got to Möku, it was pretty much empty, with just Mari and Maria working the bar and Christoph Waltz and Daniel Craig at the bar. I sat down next to Christoph Waltz and was pretty much sulking for about a half an hour, listening to Christoph Waltz chatting with Maria and Mari, occasionally joining in. At this point I was feeling especially down and the chair next to me pissed me off, always turning on it's own and hitting my elbow. This happened many times during the evening, that damn chair.
While reading my little black book and deciding what to write next, I discovered something interesting. An elaborate plot twist. Apparently the little black book ... is not black. It's actually a white notebook in a black sleeve! How about that for a shocker!
Meanwhile I realized I'm still hungry and not sure where I should go for dinner. While contemplating my predicament out loud, Christoph Waltz suggest ordering food. From Crepp, which is next door. Since I wanted to go there anyway, I found this to be an excellent idea. She even offered to order for me. Since she works there, she also offered to pick the food up once it's done and bring it over. I gave her some money and she soon walked in with a huge orange plate of food. She apparently also got a huge discount. Man, it's good to have friends. Thanks, Christoph Waltz. I ordered a coffee and proceeded to stuff my face with some tasty tasty food. Pig medallions with honey and cider sauce, simply amazing. They call it a salad, which pretty much means that this meal just had more green stuff on it, which pretty much makes it look like a mountain of food. I finished my meal and took the plate back to Crepp.
Feeling a little bit better after the meal and Möku still pretty much empty, I proceeded to chat with the rest of the group. At some point Daniel Craig left for Kivi, so I was at Möku with three girls. At some point the themes started going in a weird direction. We started with religion and how it's perfectly fine to have one and believe in it, but it's not okay to demand other people around you to believe the same things. This made me remember one of my favorite quotes about religion:
Religion is like a penis - it's okay to have one and it's quite normal to be proud of it, but it's not okay to whip it out in public and it's definitely not okay to shove it down out children's throats.
I'm not entirely sure who said it first and I'm pretty sure it wasn't originally in those exact words, but the point remains.
The conversation continued into the more disturbing direction, when Maria began wondering about the phrase "fucking weird" and what would be so weird during an intercourse that the partner would just go "you're fucking weird" and it would be literal. We speculated that singing while having sex would be quite fucking weird. I also explored the possibility of understanding the phrase in a different way, where when one is "fucking weird", they're actually having intercourse with someone who cannot be considered normal.
There were other fascinating subjects, but nothing interesting enough for me to make note of.
Some time later I bought a beer. For Christoph Waltz, for providing the tasty meal earlier. I bought myself some bubbly water with grenadine. I like this drink. Very refreshing.
At the time, the night was still quiet and I haven't seen any familiar faces besides Daniel Craig and Christoph Waltz yet, so I wasn't too happy when I checked the time and realized it was only half past nine. I still had two and a half hours of sobriety and that made me sad. I explained my unhappiness with the situation, to which Maria said that since I had my last drink in the early hours of the first of January and probably sobered up somewhere around midday of the first, I had already been sober for a bit over a month. This made me think.
And at that moment I decided to send it all to hell. I was sick of this stupid project. Wait for another two hours? For what? To prove what exactly? So I decided to bump it down a few hours and start at 10 pm. I figured I'd get drunk by the time it was midnight and be a huge disappointment for all my fans who would show up a bit before midnight to witness me having the first drink of the year as promised. Looking back, it was probably a good idea, because nobody showed up for that. Nobody gave a shit.
So at 22:00, I ordered a beer and Christoph Waltz wrote "rebel without a cause" in my little black (white) book.
And then I got drunk.
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