Y’know, it occurred to me that last Sunday was Valentine’s Day.. I hope it treated you all well and that you had a good time with your loved ones. I know I did, I spent my day drunk in my boxers surrounded by good friends. Ah bliss.. If there’s a better way to spend such a day then I really don’t wanna know..
The thing is.. When we last left me (some two posts ago) during my stay with Dunkel and Marianne in Esbjerg, I’d just woken on the couch dazed and confused Sunday morning, not feeling too bright or well at all.. Now, I’ll admit that I had some recollection then of it being Valentine’s Day and that I should probably fuck the hell off during the day and let Dunkel and Marianne have the evening to themselves, provided they wanted to follow the horrible tradition of actually needing to have a special day to tell one another that you care about each other..
That plan, though, was shot down in flames when up popped the living room door and in stumbled a visibly disoriented Dunkel, two beers in hand, a pout on his face and several groans escaping his lips. He staggered to the couch next to me and sat down with a moan followed by a wince.. He then made a slurred incoherent speech about hangovers and not feeling too well at all, opened both beers, handed me one and said something along the lines of “Help me kill the pain!” – “If we do this,” I countered, “you do realize there’s no way in hell I’m getting home today, right?” – “Fuck it,” came the reply, “it’s better this way!” .. And so, we drank.. Fast forward about an hour and we’re now in the kitchen, still in our underwear, listening to a bit of heavy metal while cooking a dish almost exactly like Spaghetti Cabonara, only.. not.. and mixing Vodka/Red Bull.. Ah, what a fine way to start the day!
I should reiterate to those who may still not have picked it up, that I am not at all a fan of Valentine’s Day, that I find it one of the most hypocritical and unimaginative holidays ever and that I am more than pissed that Danes have started accepting the tradition in much the same way that we’ve accepted to many other American holidays such as Thanksgiving(?) .. So, while you may be shocked and appalled, I found it more than reasonable to declare even at this early stage that I intended to spend all of the day getting shit-faced and that I wouldn’t even bother to put on pants for the occasion! Childish, irresponsible and immature surely.. But alas, ladies and gentlemen, that’s how I roll!
My decision to stay in my underwear led only to minor complications, such as having to strap on a couple of shoes and walk out into the snow covered yard to retrieve another case of beer from the shed, and having to let Dunkel and Marianne go shopping on their own while I stayed back, drank beer and watched The F-Word.. Apparently grocery shopping in your underwear isn’t acceptable behavior, nor does it fall into the norms of normal social conduct.. Other than that, it was a pretty awesome day! We had some laughs, a few involuntary naps, we watched a fair bit of TV, blasted some music, I grilled steak dinner for the love birds in my underwear and we invented a new Family Guy drinking game.. And somewhere in the process we apparently got drunk as well because memory started failing again.. What I do remember is getting to bed at somewhere around 5 AM and waking up not many hours later feeling not well at all, going back to sleep, waking up feeling slightly worse, going back to sleep and then waking up feeling like utter shit!
But this was Monday morning/afternoon, so no rest for the wicked.. Groaning and moaning I got up from the couch and into the car, Dunkel then took me down to the railway station where I spent some time walking around getting some fresh air, trying to get rid of the motion sickness I’d already acquired in the car before going on a one hour train ride.. No dice!
I eventually arrived home in Kolding feeling even worse for wear and dragged myself home where I rested up for a few hours before going to work, still with a hangover.. Which, actually, didn’t leave me till around midnight, leaving me to draw the conclusion upon my return home that morning that I’m (probably) never drinking again.. At least not until next weekend!