I had a very busy week last week, full of all kinds of hustle and bustle. All of that is a good thing, but by Friday, I was feeling the effects, and was more than ready for the weekend.
My Friday routine tends to involve picking up a pizza for dinner, catching up with my father on skype, and having a few beers at the pub. As it was nearing 18h, I was still trying to wrap a few things workwise, but finally reached a stopping point. I then called my pizza guy, who is now pretty familiar with my routine, himself. "Zehn Minuten," he said as I finished telling him my order.
I did a bit of work space tidy up in the next few minutes, then walked up the street to pick up my pies. I figured I would check in on my father when I got home, then head across to the local.
As I left my apartment, I noticed a bit more activity going on at the pub, including what sounded like a DJ playing happy hour music. I found that curious, but in possibly 15 minutes I would be able to check it out up close. I just focused on the task at hand, making sure I had a mask with me (to go inside the restaurant), etc.
Minutes later, the pizzas were safely in the kitchen, and I quickly tried to reach my father, but unsuccessfully. No need to panic; I would catch him later in the evening or on Saturday.
I recognize the slight risk involved when the beer to food ratio is not so balanced, and this has created one or two, um, let's call then incidents, when my Friday evening starts out on an empty stomach, then careens out of control when the "on the fence," part of the decision making process goes missing. My plan always starts out well enough: enjoy 3, maybe 4 beers during the "happy hour" time slot early Friday, then return home to dinner on the couch while enjoying a film.
The other week was an excellent example. Just as I was finishing the third beer, a couple of friends showed up, and of course I had to stick around. Two beers after that, another few people showed up, and on it went, until around 3am.
This particular Friday evening, however, I had planned just for me. I was interested in sticking to just a few beers, collect my thoughts as I recapped the busy and productive week, and possibly play an album or two in my head as a soundtrack. I had been discussing PIL, The The, and The Cult with some folks in the previous days, so I had all kinds of playlists queued up in the brain.
I quickly realized that my soundtrack was getting drowned out by the DJ, who was playing music that I simply did not feel like listening to. In fact, as I found out that the pub was doing a joint promotion with a beer distributor; they had a bit of a festive atmosphere organized, with the music, decorations, and little stands for take away beers.
I found my usual place, which was fortunately vacant, and knew that the evening would be somewhat shorter than originally planned. Another friend showed up, saw the scene, and immediately expressed what I was already thinking, "This is not the way I want my Friday evening to go. I wanted a bit of quiet time with a few friends and beers. Not this party scene."
Then he left.
Despite my disappointment at being in a festive atmosphere without wanting to be festive, I made the most of things, and did enjoy my alone time collecting my thoughts, and particularly liked it when it suddenly started pouring down rain. Under the protection of the umbrella over my table, my beer and myself remained comfortable.
Like I mentioned the other week, sometimes I prefer my pub visits to be solitary, with as little conversation as possible. Because of the rain, I was pretty much guaranteed to have this, as the rainstorm certainly was not enticing to those patrons wanting to spend an evening sitting in a beer garden.
One of the pub owners did come over for a few minutes, just to catch up and say hello. I wished him a happy belated birthday (he was on the list from last week), and I cheered him on as kept having to go clear the rainwater collecting on the awnings over the DJ station. This involves a broom handle and you basically poke the top of the awning so that the water pours off onto the ground below.
Sporadic rainstorms have been the norm as of late, and more than once, an unfortunate server has been walking by with a plate of food or a tray of beers, only to get water dumped on them. I do appreciate these moments of free entertainment, I must say.
That kept me occupied for another beer, and I started thinking about winding things down for the evening. I was not letting the festive atmosphere put me in a bad mood, but it was so different from what I wanted, that I could not help but let it bother me a bit.
It was one of those evenings where my list of people I felt like talking to was very, very short. Maybe 3 or 4 people, but preferably not all at once.
With a stroke of luck, one of those persons showed up; she had just finished working, herself, and was coming to join her boyfriend, who clearly had been at the pub from the onset of the festivities, joining his friends who were running the promotion.
Maria is a good friend, and we actually had a nice conversation for half an hour, just talking about lots of different things. It was a really nice chat and made up for my evening that was not actually going to my original plan.
The timing worked out fine. She needed to go rescue her boyfriend, who was already starting to wobble, and I had reached my "on the fence" time. I called the waitress over to cash out, said my goodbye to Maria, then headed home for a bit of quiet.
Before sitting down for dinner, I decided to check in on my dad one more time, and found him online. We chatted for another hour, and I was glad to have gotten the weekly visit with him done before Saturday, when he himself had a full schedule planned.
All things considered, it was not a bad night, but still, I was not in the best of moods, even while eating my pizza and watching an Agatha Christie film.
I ended up falling asleep on the couch, but finally switched off the TV and went to bed.
As for myself, I did not have a full schedule planned for Saturday. I had a few to-dos, knew I would speak with my sister, and, because of some cooking preparation I had done Friday afternoon, I already had Saturday's meal mostly taken care of; I would need only to heat a few things up in the oven.
I was looking forward to finally seeing a match that Arsenal could possibly win, but as I texted with a friend during the morning, we both discovered that not only was the match not going to be shown at the pub, it was not going to be televised at all.
This irked me, as I had been looking forward to a catch up with my buddy, even with the continuance of the beer promo going on at the pub. Meanwhile, I asked myself again why I have a subscription to skysports when I can't get to see the match I want.
Even though I got my to-dos completed, I felt a bit pissed off about things Saturday afternoon, for no reason whatsoever.
As football was not an option, I found a film to watch as I ate my Saturday afternoon meal. I tend to eat heavier during the early-mid afternoon, sort of Spanish style, and that was all fine and good, but I ended up eating too much, and found myself feeling a bit bloated and uncomfortable.
After a very brief rainstorm, the sun came out again, and the promo at the pub kicked back into gear. This time, unfortunately, instead of a DJ, they had a live band playing.
Once again, I was not in the mood. Sure, I was not right in the middle of everything, but because of the proximity of my living room to the pub terrace, I might as well have been.
Part of me felt a little guilty for being so irritated by something that was very likely creating joy for others, but it was just not the right day or time for me. I wanted to sulk.
Probably any other time, I would have been fully supportive of a group of guys getting together to play covers of what they believe to be the favorite party songs, but I just was not up for it.
So, I shut my windows to try and keep the majority of the noise out, which just made my flat a bit more humid, due to the sporadic rain showers. And, as good as my Doppelfenster are, I could not help but follow the music through the band's set. They played all the "hits" that I tend to shy away from. It was a bit unfair, because they played competently enough, but it just was irritating. Why were all the songs in English instead of German? Why do cover bands always have to cover Oasis, the Rolling Stones, and the Killers?
Well, the Saturday evening continued on, and I was rather glad when 22h hit and the band had to unplug. The terrace remained open, so I could still hear people enjoying the evening, but at least without crap music.
All of this created some pretty interesting dreams for me last night, and I woke up this morning feeling somewhat refreshed and in better spirits.
Of course, this has not stopped me from listening to the first five albums of PIL during the course of the morning, with a repeat of the classic line from the classic song.
"Anger is an energy."
That being said, I am psyching myself back up for a good week. It was okay to have a couple of days where I was not so bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and bubbly with fuzzy, but I can bring that to an end.
That is the cool thing about listening to Public Image, Ltd. here on a Sunday morning. Especially as I start on album number 6.
Happy?
see you out there
Bryan
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