I'm the world famous cocktail journalist(ess) Anna Väkeväinen - a recognized sipologist but mostly focusing on gonzo reportage. I'm so famous that sometimes replying to all the invitations and fan mail keeps me from doing the actual work: drinking. But I always get back on the track soon.
Had a Hair Drink After with my friend Miss R. Of course you already know what HDA is: a new event imported from abroad, propably America. Like TED talks. The point of them is to take something that has been around for ever, and say it is new. (See, TED really is a seminar.)
Anyway, in Hair Drink After you make a date at the hairdressers together with your friend, and afterwards go for a drink. We have always done it but it has never been new before.
The hairdressers did what they always do: cut the hair really well and then fix it up all fluffy and stupid. Why do they do that? So we did what we always do and rushed into the toilet of the next café to redo our hairs.
We took our drinks at Musta Kissa, where the bartender, Fabian from France, thought Miss R was Maria Veitola, the tv star.
"You do look like Maria Veitola in your new hair", I said.
"And you know Anna, you look like Susanna Kivisilta!"
"The PR queen? Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"They're both good looking, arent' they?"
"Very."
"And they know the night."
"They do."
We sat at the bar, happy. Miss R had a Mojito and I had a Caipirinha. My drink looked blue.
"It is blue", I said to Fabian.
"The glass is blue", he said.
"Oh."
The glass made the liquid look like it had Blue Curacao in it, which I haven't tasted since 9th grade, when I had 7 Blue Angels on a cruise ship on a school excursion. In addition, Fabian had put some weird type of ice in.
"Looks like serial", my friend sayd.
Nevermind, the taste was great. Ordered another one. Etc. Etc. Etc.
Miss R had a problem.
"First I meet a man, and then I start thinking the man is a jerk. Should I call my therapist?"
"What makes you feel the man you are currently seeing is a jerk?"
"He calls her ex wife bitch and tells me all the time how much money he makes. And he hates Sex and the City."
"Dear, don't call your therapist."
Why do all the gorgeous women always think they are too picky? For God's sake. We don't need therapy, we need men who are worth us.
At the photo session my friend and the photographer began checking each other out (look at that photo above and see for yourself). It took them no long to leave, first the photographer and five minutes later my friend. She denies anything happened and I know why: the guy is 18 and she is 40. God knows we were Cougars before they were invented, but now the whole thing has become just too trendy, read past.
There I was, with Fabian, on a saturday night, and the only other people in the bar were a group of ERASMUS exchange students who only drank tea, were very cute and boring.
I ordered another Caipirinja.
"You've already had eight", said Fabian softly. "Maybe you should go home."
I nodded. At the door I turned around.
"Fabian, it's getting cold and dark. People don't go to bars anymore now. It's people like you and me left. The sad night people."
I began to cry.
"I will pay for the cab", said Fabian.
At home I rang Miss M.
"I am lonely and I suffer", I said to her.
"I will never have Details again."
"Target group doesn't like me."
"I'm a loser."
"Why don't I have full lips and perky breasts?"
She convinced me there will be sex, for both of us. That I am beautiful and interesting. That I am worthy and lovable.
I fell asleep like a baby. Except for the mascara on the pillow.
