These are the words that the rock n roll granpa told my boyfriend last night.
NOW: saturday night, but no fever.
Rewind: Nice friday. After dining in the drunk neighborhood of Helsinki, we manage to grab a tram towards downtown. It feels like riding a dragon with hiccough. I look at the driver and I understand why: women driving!
>>We meet a rockstar. I am the only one who does not recognise him. He starts to talk to talk to one of us and he sits with us. He is famous finnish guitar player, but he introduces himself, shaking our hands and asking where we are from. He tells us he just comes from a gig, that his wife has lived 20 years in Rome and it would be nice if I could meet her. He asks what brings me here and I say: "love". He looks at my boyfriend and he says: "you, lucky bastard!". It is nice to observe the guy and listen to him. His eyes are sensitive and sly and his tapered hands take the beer glass every now and then. He loves alcohol -he drinks beer and wiskey at the same time- and he tells us the magic story of when he knocked at the door of REMU (the voice of the Hurriganes) and the guy gave him a blue jacket 5 sizes less than the appropriate one as a sign. He is one of the guys. Every time one of us say something that he likes, he smiles saying: "now you are talking!". He blurts some secrets about some other guitar player of some other famous bands: "Yee, that guy wears a wig!". Time passes, time to goes. He walks out with us, then finally greets us saying: "tomorrow I will sweat in my hungover. But, hey, let's meet sometimes..I mean..we don't have to agree on anything, but I live nearby and I often come here for a beer... and you should definitely meet my wife."...then he staggers away.
>> saturday, sunny saturday. I got angry cos in a bar I ordered a beer and they asked my ID. Do I look like a teenager?
>>evening. After a series of gags exchanged with my boyfriend about finnish girls, I understood why he is a lucky bastard.
Rewind: Nice friday. After dining in the drunk neighborhood of Helsinki, we manage to grab a tram towards downtown. It feels like riding a dragon with hiccough. I look at the driver and I understand why: women driving!
>>We meet a rockstar. I am the only one who does not recognise him. He starts to talk to talk to one of us and he sits with us. He is famous finnish guitar player, but he introduces himself, shaking our hands and asking where we are from. He tells us he just comes from a gig, that his wife has lived 20 years in Rome and it would be nice if I could meet her. He asks what brings me here and I say: "love". He looks at my boyfriend and he says: "you, lucky bastard!". It is nice to observe the guy and listen to him. His eyes are sensitive and sly and his tapered hands take the beer glass every now and then. He loves alcohol -he drinks beer and wiskey at the same time- and he tells us the magic story of when he knocked at the door of REMU (the voice of the Hurriganes) and the guy gave him a blue jacket 5 sizes less than the appropriate one as a sign. He is one of the guys. Every time one of us say something that he likes, he smiles saying: "now you are talking!". He blurts some secrets about some other guitar player of some other famous bands: "Yee, that guy wears a wig!". Time passes, time to goes. He walks out with us, then finally greets us saying: "tomorrow I will sweat in my hungover. But, hey, let's meet sometimes..I mean..we don't have to agree on anything, but I live nearby and I often come here for a beer... and you should definitely meet my wife."...then he staggers away.
>> saturday, sunny saturday. I got angry cos in a bar I ordered a beer and they asked my ID. Do I look like a teenager?
>>evening. After a series of gags exchanged with my boyfriend about finnish girls, I understood why he is a lucky bastard.
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