The gilrs left to their other parents yesterday. Time to take the dj and disco ball out of the closet and start another week of childfree party time 😉 No, seriously, I went out for a long chilly walk with the dog while my husband took care of some grocery shopping.

We had a rather simple yet good dinner of kebab meat, tzatziki and tomato-cucumber-green pepper-red onion salad, and washed it down with some white wine. After dinner we took our wild party to the sofa, playing some music from Youtube, the dog napping at our feet.

At some point, we were out of wine (it was only a bottle anyway) and started to discuss which direction we should steer our evening. Bedforshire (somehow, that got stuck in my head from Bridget Jones) or maybe getting a couple drinks at the local. The dog had taken herself upstairs to bed already, and we decided to leave her sleeping and head to the pub.

I had never been to the neighborhood pub before. I pretty much avoid such places. Especially since they usually have karaoke. I cannot stand karaoke. I have to be seriously drunk to tolerate it. Last time I visited a local pub, I got to witness an actual catfight, when the other women in our company decided to attack this one woman flirting with one of the husbands. They all got thrown out.

Last night, I told my husband that I wasn't staying if they had karaoke. This place has none. It could actually be a nice little pub, if we had the British kind of pub culture here. As it is, we are in Finland, and even thought he pub is ran by Indian guys, the pub was mostly empty, with one long center table's worth of already happily drunk patrons passing the Friday evening away.

We got our drinks and found a table on the center of what would be a stage for a live band, if there ever was a live band there. Radio Nostalgia was playing some Helmut Lotti versions of Elvis and rock classics, and some other old stuff. Not bad, mostly, but kinda mellow. I detected a “Digital Jukebox” in the corner and went to inspect.

It's not like I had any coins on me, so I was kinda hoping that the “digital” meant alternative paying methods like by SMS or something – not that I could've done that either with my own phone, what with it being a company phone and at that point dead too, but I could've persuaded my husband to SMS some better music. No such luck.

So we sat there at our table, talking and observing other people. My personality J(udgemental) sometimes gets the best of my P(erceptive) and I couldn't help feeling rather amused, as I watched the patrons hustle around. The blond obviously desperate lady French kissing every guy. The guys having their eyes on me, causing my husband to get all alpha-male about it. I thought it quite funny, and shook my flaming red hair free from it's bun, just to tease a bit, and got the response from my husband: “You wanna get me into a fight?”

One of the already quite drunk patrons padded to the jukebox, and started clumsily scanning throught the music. I snuck up to him, asked what he was looking for and after getting a confused shrug for an answer, asked: “May I?” “Sure, use it all up.” He'd added coins worth of four songs. So I picked out some CCR, some ACDC, some Bon Jovi and, geez! can't remember the fourth one. Hunh.

Anyway, someone else picked up from where I left off, and we had a few more good songs playing. A woman in tight jeans and a leather jacket made me regret that I didn't have my heels and leather jacket, but had left home in (high heel) sneekers and a sporty jacket instead. But I still had everything on that other woman in orange sole shoes and gray sweats.

Yeah, I get into this female game thing sometimes 😉 I wanted my man to be regarded the luckiest guy in the room. At the same time, I was feeling rather amused by my own acts too 😀

We danced a little when there was a cool old rock'n roll song playing, old school, from the fifties. I have always wanted to know that good ol' rock'n roll, I mean to dance it, but since I don't and neither does my husband, we were just plain dancing. “I'm not very good with these moves”, he told me when I took the initiative to do a swirl. “Don't worry, I am, for both of us.”

The fire place clock (oh yes, it has a nice fire place too, but no nice flare in it, not even a fake one ) said 21:15, which obviously was wrong by several hours, when we left. We walked home and got in bed, the poor doglet all puzzled by our late night abcense. Stepped in dog pee (she always does it when left alone…) in the dark of the bedroom, and climbed to bed, falling asleep immediately.

I'm still feeling amused 🙂 It was like a field trip to a different world, that could either amuse or annoy me. I selected “amuse”, this time.