Day 172 Stairs

Moonlight and whisky is not a good combination, especially when you launch yourself into the void on a big bit of cardboard, only to find yourself rattling down a flight of 500 steps on the far side of the hill at Malminkartano.

Imagine yourself at the Rautaruukki, Koverhar Steel Works. Imagine yourself as a piece of pig iron being beaten by a series of monsterous hydraulic jack-hammers.

When I reached the bottom of the steps you could have thrown me straight into a frying pan and cooked me rare. I was so tender.

Day 172 Hill

I bought a fifth of cheap whisky and at midnight went out to climb the sledging hill at Malminkartano. It is a hill built out of rubbish, and in the winter when it is covered with snow people go sledging on it. It was deserted. I was alone.

The night was dark and clear... crisp would be the word. You could see as far as the Neste tower in Otaniemi, the water tower in Lauttasaari, the Lutheran catherdral in the town centre, and away on the opposite side of the hill the condensation from the cooling towers of the Vanta powerstation rose straight into the air. I looked at them and thought they were exclamation marks. Only the sentence that proceeded them was missing. Typical. Messages never come when you are looking for answers.

I drank down the whisky neat... straight from the bottle. A sip at a time as I looked at the stars in the cloudless sky. Light travelling from outerspace. How many years had it taken to travel all that distance for me to see on this starry starry night.

I finished off the whiskey and found a big bit of cardboard and decided to go over the edge of the steepest slope that nobody else dared to go down. The moon was full. Madness.

Day 171 Wootonga

It was the name that did it. The label on the bottle said Wootonga and I just had to investigate. It was only 5 euro and it had a 19 volt kick. Wootonga, Australian sweet sherry.

It might have been fine if I had drunk it in small amounts as an after dinner tipple, but I drank the whole bottle in one go, and for some unfathomable reason decided to eat a jar of Ahti raw baltic herring in a mustard sauce to go along with it.

Logic should tell you that Australian Sweet Sherry and raw baltic herring in mustard sauce is not a good combination, but let me just say that the unusualness of the flavours, the mingling of the sweetness and the bitterness was sufficiently interesting that three-quarters of the wine was gone and the almost all of the raw herring before the nausea began to creep into my throat.

Having started a project I was loathe to give up, so operating on the principle of a "hair of the dog that bite you" I downed the remaining glass of Wootonga in one gulp and observing some onion rings and black peppercorns remaining in the raw herring jar I ate them as well.

It was when the molars crunched through the peppercorns that the projectile vomiting started, and after the stomach was empty the dry retching continued. There is nothing worse than the taste of bile in your mouth... well in actual fact there is... Wootonga and raw herring.

I should not be punishing myself like this.

Day 170 Explainations

"I can't get my head around this. What you are saying is that Brita is a man who is on hormones and is about to undergo an operation to become a woman, and then get married to his girlfriend?"

"Well it was glaringly obvious to anyone. He didn't fool me for a second. I mean to say that truck drivers voice was a dead give-away"

"But I thought you fancied him when you thought he was a woman? Giving him flowers and that."

"Naw the flowers were destined for the dump anyways. Rubbish really."

"Rubbish with ribbons on... pull the other one. You're in denial"

Day 169 Close Shave

I didn't shave for a few days. I had that designer stubble, and I wandered down to the hair dressers to take the flowers to Brita. I intended to drop them off and leave, but she looked at me with a mischevious look in her eye and purred.

"You could do with a shave"

I couldn't believe my luck "Yeah I suppose I do... could you do it for me?"

"Sure hop up in the chair"

I settled into the chair and she took an old fashioned shaving brush and lathered my face. It was nice to feel the bristles on my bristles. She then began to strop an open edged razor on a brown leather belt to whet the edge. Her hands were quick as a weavers and with extremely deft movements she began to shave me.

"You're very good at this"

"Oh yes I used to shave quite regularly before I had the hormone treatment. Just waiting for the operation to be scheduled, then my girlfriend and I are puting in for a same sex marriage."

Day 168 Flowers

She came into the shop today and said she wanted some flowers for the hairdressers. You know to brighten up the place, make it nice for the customers.

"You know if you made that a standing order we could give you a considerable discount"

"Really? How much?"

"Well if you placed an order for some flowers everyday we could do 50% off"

"50%?" she gasped. Had I offered to little or too much?

"Well if you did it on a regular basis 75% off"

"75%?" she choked. Had I insulted her?

"Well if you had a little display card saying where you got the flowers from, then I think we could give them to you for free"

"Free?" she laughed. I knew I had hit the bullseye.

"And I could deliver them to you at the hairdressers if that is OK"

She shook her head in disbelief and gave me a smile that could have created a universe, or at least a small constellation, and with a Ferrari purr in her voice said.

"See you then"

Day 167 Hair

Going through the shopping centre today I saw her. She is working in a hair dressers. She was dressed like one of those beauticians in Stockmans. White tunic, white flat soled laceup shoes, gossamer white tights.

She looked like an angel. Neat, efficient, caring. I could have sworn she was surrounded by a shining aura. She could have been a hologram, flickering back and forth, in and out of reality. A princess Leah speaking to R2D2.

She was drinking coffee from a white mug. There was a trace of lipstick on the rim. It was the colour of damson. No!!! ripe pomegranate would be nearer the truth. Her lips were glossed.

In her left breast pocket she had a stainless steel comb, and a pair of chrome plated scissors, and on her right breast pocket she had a blue black name badge to match her hair. Britta!

I have absolutely no reason for going into the hairdressers, since I don't have a hair on my head. I shave it all off regularly.

Love will find a way.

Day 166 Fool

There she was again in the shop. Her fur collar was up around her ears, and her hair was full of static. Wisps and small strands of hair were making trembling electrical movements. I thought she might spark and set herself on fire.

I was facinated by this mysterious movement of her hair, and thought of coral reefs, and blue lagoons, and sea anemones wafted by an underwater current. Outside the snow was deep and it was below zero, but I was naked on a tropical island, and the sun was hot. Too hot, and my mouth was dry, and in the cold Finnish winter I felt that prickly heat in my armpits, and a trickle of sweat down my side.

It didn't register with me when she said "I'll take this red Amyrylis"

I said the first thing that came into my head. "Take it. It's yours for free"

Her lips twitched a couple on millimetres, and her nostrils flared ever so slightly. "Really?"

"Yes completely free... no strings attached.... arrrrgh... what I mean is... it's yours for free... special policy... Christmas policy... goodwill to all men.... eeehh and women... and all that... thousanth customer of the Christmas season... goodwill gesture... and we throw in a free christmas tree as well... would that be OK?"

She pouted "Well it is Boxing day and Christmas is over, and I already have a tree. You're very kind, but the Amyrylis will do just fine" she purred. Her words were like honey dripping off a wooden spoon.

I felt crushed. It was was though someone had taken a six inch stiletto heeled shoe and whacked me on the forehead with it. I wraped up the Amyrylis for her in silence, and tied it up with our best Christmas ribbon, and presented it to her, and at the same time for no reason at all, blurted out "The excellence of a gift is in its appropriateness and not in its value." As soon as I said it I wished I had had a shotgun handy to blow off my foot with both barrels.

She raised one eyebrow, took the package and moved towards the door, and with a wink said, "Bye."

I could have sworn she kissed the air as she left.

Day 165 Love

There she was in the shop looking for a Star of Bethlehem. She had her back to me and I saw her face in profile. She was talking to a friend, and looking so intently into her friends eyes, that I knew she must be kind.

Her teeth were perfect. Her skin was perfect, and her hair was blueish black like a bruise. She laughed easily and laid a tender hand on her friends forearm as they shared a joke. Her voice was a melody. No that would be wrong. It was more like warm honey. If I could listen to her speak then I would be healed of all my ills.

I wanted to go and ask if I could offer assistance in anyway, and I moved behind her. I squeezed past and as I went my breath was taken away by her loveliness. The freshness of her hair, the perfume on the fur collar of her coat.

As I squeezed past, she turned and smiled at me a crooked smile. Her mouth was perfect and she had a glint and sparkle in her eyes, so beautiful that I nearly melted away. She steped to the side and said "Sorry" and I felt myself disolve.

As she moved away I closed my eyes and took a deep inward breath as though to inhale the goodness of her, and when I open them she was gone.

I am in love.

Day 164 Roses

A monstrosity of a woman comes in. Her lips are as red as a mid-summer rose.

"Young man, I'm thinking of planting some roses in the spring. I am thinking of perhaps 'Lady Jane' to be precise. Would you be able to advise me if this would be a good purchase?"

"Lady Jane doesn't do well in a bed, but is fantastic up against a wall"

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing"

Day 163 Deal

"5%"

"40%"

"10%"

"30%"

"15%"

"20%"

"Deal"

I wish making money was always that easy. Come in handy for Xmas presents.

DAy 162 Dealing

"I just had the police on the phone." I lied

"Oh yeah... what did they want?"

"Oh nothing special. Something about stolen Xmas trees" I lied

"Yeah, and what did you tell them?

"I told them we have receipts for every Xmas tree that we sell at the centre. We do everything to the letter of the law. Everything above board."

"Receipts?"

"Yeah receipts, I just crank them out on the bosses PC. They look very official. You wouldn't be wanting some for your Xmas trees would you?"

"Depends on how much they cost"

"Not much... just 50% of your takings"

"50 friggen %... no way"

"Suit yourself" and I walked off leaving Roope to scan the horizon for the flashing blue lights and the siren.

Day 161 Persuasion

I'm like hands in pockets... "Hey Roope... just wondering where you are getting all them trees from. Wholesale are they?"

and he's like backing off... "Nope."

and I'm in his face... "Making a pretty penny on them are you?"

and he's behind a tree hiding... "What's it to you?"

and I'm like hollering it out loud for everyone to hear... "Declaring tax on income?"

and he's like whispering... "What business is it of yours?"

and I'm like pop-eyed mad saying... "I could make it my business."

and he's got eyes like golfballs saying... "Oh yeah?"

I have wound him up sufficiently for the day so I let him stew.

Day 160 Fraud

Those Xmas trees are moving like skitter from the arse of a chimpanzee. Roope must be making a fortune, and him leeching off the council with his rent free flat.

I think I will have a word with him. Sort of say my lips are sealed for a 20% cut of his profits.

Day 159 Xmas

I have never held with selling Xmas trees, basically because it was a tradition introduced by those inbred Germans who took over the english throne. Cutting down trees for them was like cutting off heads for the French during the revolution. Pointless.

Never the less Roope is raking the money in. As fast as he gets a new batch in he sells them all. Hot shite and shovels springs once again to mind.

Day 158 Trees

I don't know where Roope is getting all these Xmas trees from but they are selling. The are moving like hot shite off a shovel.

Day 157 Scam

Janna is Uno's girlfriend. They deserve each other. It is a case of like attracting like.

Janna says

"If someone comes to your front door saying they are conducting a survey, and asks you to take all your clothes off, do not do it! This is a scam; they only want to see you naked. I wish I'd known this yesterday. I feel so stupid and cheap now."

"Really?"

Day 156 Stink

Got a letter from Roope. Here's what it said.

"Ur letturs stink, an ah don meen ur sentensez. Dem letturs pong anav a gawdawful whiff. OK! Here's wot we're gonna do like. Forget the dooling, instead yews let me an Virpi cell Xmas trees in yer yard an we'll call it quits. OK! An anuver fing wot about onuring ur faver and muvver? Eh? Seems to me u don pay any rent to ur muvver, never get de grub for de frige. So don talk to me abat onur. Har-Har-Har"

Knowing that Roope will have to steal any trees he proposes to sell, and given the fact that I hate Christmas trees, and want nothing to do with them. I agree to the deal.

Day 155 Honour

I wrote Roope a letter. Here's what I said.

"Roope,
Look I admit I have made mistakes in the past, and I am sorry for all that has been said about you and Virpi. It was wrong of me to suggest that she had done a Boris Becker in the broom cupboard with Uno.

Even although until recently you have been sleeping rough in the tunnel under the West Way I wholeheartedly believe that since you have moved into a council flat your sensibilities have become so much sharper and you have become the archetypal man of honour who remains ever alert for any insult, actual or suspected, that would impugn your dignity.

I am fully aware that you have challenged me to a duel, and I would like to bring to your attention a matter of dueling ettiquette. Namely duels are fought between members of the same social class, and since you have moved up in the world, (living in a selfcontained one room apartment) and I remain so low, (living with my mother) you must realise that if you were to soil your hands on a ruffian such as myself, the mere act would stain your reputation in the eyes of decent society.

Therefore I beg of you, take pity on yourself, for if you continue to persue this reckless desire for blood letting, you will find yourself ostracized by the community, for a man of honour is also a man who exercises mercy and forgiveness"

I farted in the envelope and posted the letter to him without a stamp.

Day 154 Duel

Jussi comes in he is no more edgey than usual. He always has a kind of nervousness to him. Always expecting someone to jump out at him from the shadows, or a very heavy weight to fall on him from a great height. It is because he is so steeped in conspiricy theories.

"Roope sent me around."

"Oh yeah. So?"

"He feels you have insulted him and Virpi. It is a question of honour, and he is challenging you to a duel. He has asked me to act as his second."

"Oh yeah, and what are we going to use for weapons... snowballs?"

"You have to find yourself a second and get him to come and discuss that with me. Protocol you know"

"Well friends are a bit thin on the ground at the moment, so I can't come up with a second, so you will have to tell Roope the duel is off. Protocol you know"

"It's not to the death or anything like that... first blood and then it is over, honour satisfied."

"You mean to say that at the sight of blood all the old debts are cancelled, all the wrongs I have done to Roope, all the lies and all the cheating will be forgotten?"

"Yep! and if he could scar you for life that would be a bonus. A sort of testimony that things have been sorted between you two"

"Get bent"