Rain and Shine, Fucking Good Times (A much needed update) Pt. 2

(Continued from previous post)

Let's just say I had a slight ache that morning when I awoke to my phone ringing. Hangover, bad. Phone call, good. It was Lilu! She called to ask what had happened the day before, and she wanted to give me the subject for the next poem. "I know commissioned writings cost more," she said – which I imagine she said with a wink, even though I couldn't see it. It was a birthday poem about her friend whose motto, so-to-speak, is, "Champagne goes with everything I wear." Awesome motto. With the hangover, I knew I would not make it to busking until that evening.

I headed out to Tori at around 4:30 p.m., and intended to stay until maybe seven or eight. I had both poems ready for Lilu when she arrived, and she adored the birthday one. (I'll admit, the graduation poem wasn't as good as the birthday one.) She tipped me well and her friend also ordered a poem, this one for an American buddy, Bill. He's turning 71 and I had no idea what to write. I ended up using the name "Bill" as a hook, rhyming "Clinton" with "live on." Then I made some little references like "undiscover'd" land (which I used both for its syllables and its Shakespeare-ness, another "Bill" I mentioned in the hook).

I ordered a sandwich from Tori (one of the benefits of busking there). I usually get the cheapest one, and it's delicious every time. One of the managers from the restaurant gave the sandwich to me on the house. Am I becoming a staple of Tori? That's amazing.

Lilu offered to get me a glass of wine. I was going to turn it down but then I figured one glass wouldn't hurt. Hair of the dog? I went to their table, which was situated right next to my busking post, to thank them. They told me to sit down and so I did. We ended up having a great conversation, and they kept pouring wine for me. Then they ordered dinner for me! These women, who are about the age of my mother, are FABULOUS. They decided to "adopt" me, and their humor is surprisingly similar to mine. Quite crude, in fact – which I adore. Lilu also decided to become my "agent."

I wasn't sitting at my post, though my stuff was still set up, so I could tell people were curious as to who was supposed to be there. They didn't know it was me, so I wasn't doing much business, but I was having a hell of a time anyway. We were all getting a bit tipsy, and then Lilu turned to one young girl who was leaving and began talking with her. Why are you leaving? Well, I'm done eating. Don't you have an event coming up? Er...I guess. If so, BUY A POEM!

Lilu was marketing me! It was fantastic. She convinced the girl to buy a poem. The girl said her friend was coming to visit from the Netherlands and that they were very crazy and spontaneous together. They once hitchhiked to a carnival in costumes; this girl had been a bunny and her friend had been a sort of femme fatale. I called the poem "FF in Helsinki." The girl seemed rather doubtful about buying, but when she came back to pick up the poem, she actually dropped her jaw. She loved the poem I wrote, or maybe she's a good faker.

The view of Tori's terrace from where I sit (at a slow time)

The American traveler from the night before decided to pay me a visit. (I told him where I'd be...) He stayed at Tori to have dinner and a beer.

Another girl who had seemed interested in my sign when I wasn't at my post came up to me immediately when she saw me sitting there and ordered a story about anything. I wrote about two artists who don't like clocks and they use the sun as their guide. One year, they spend the summer in Helsinki randomly (after spinning the globe). Since the sun is always up, the two men are lost in this timelessness and find themselves working at all hours because they are suddenly schedule-less. They come back to Helsinki the next summer.

After that, I went back to join Lilu's table. She kept introducing me to everyone she knows who strolled by. She always introduced me as someone who "will be famous someday." Lilu again tried to market one of my poems to two women, but they were more resistant. Lilu decided that she would buy a poem for the women instead. It was about how they rarely have moments like this (hanging out, just them two, at a cafe). They met because their husbands were friends and they sent their daughters to the same music school. I tried to tell Lilu that she didn't have to pay me for the poem, because she was being so glorious to me. She insisted on it.

I noticed the American guy was sitting alone, so I suggested that we move inside and join him. This was after maybe three or four bottles of wine split between us three ladies. Lilu's friend had left, and another one replaced that one. The ladies also bought the American dude's dinner and poured him wine.

Then Lilu asked about a man who was sitting alone. I had heard about this man. He's an American writer, mostly deaf, who comes to Tori everyday to write. Lilu and I went up to him. He told us that he's writing a book about the Winter War and that he's from New York. He worked for the New York Times and the Financial Times, and he developed a relationship with Finland when he went through a stage of reporting about small countries. Lilu invited him over for a glass of wine.

It was a riotous good time spent over, perhaps, five bottles of wine. (I think the employees at Tori were weirded out since they're not used to me being a "customer" as much.) And I ended up showing the American traveler around (meaning we went for more drinks elsewhere) since it was his last night in Helsinki.

And unfortunately, I haven't been out busking for the last two days. Wednesday morning, my cousin called me and asked if I would like to work for a day or two at his office. His coworker was swamped with work and they needed to lessen his load, so I was basically an extra set of hands (since the work didn't take too much thinking). It was great, because I'm getting paid for that, which means I might actually make rent this month!

I plan on going busking tomorrow, but I may not go this weekend, because I'm trying to go to a music festival called RuisRock in Turku, Finland. Let's hope I get to go!

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Sunset Rubdown – Idiot Heart