The Friday

After fifth drink, we talked cheerfully and had fun. I waved to the bartender for sixth, and so while filled up the beer in tap, he lipped: “YOU ARE ——”

I couldn’t figure out. He came forth, and handed over the glass-beer. “You are a clown.”

“Political clown, yes, but I’m a clownophobiac,” I replied. He laughed along with John. I was pleasant.

Then a text came. “Are you going to come soon? I don’t think I’ll be able to drink, I’ve drank plenty,” Karenina said.

11:45 pm. I said farewell to John and went ahead on way.

When I got to Puggan’s room, Puggan, Karenina, and John #2, were visibly surprised in the “moment-of-silence” style without showing any expression at all.

Puggan stood. He was mystified. “You look great. Awesome. A W E S O M E,” he said. I was embarrassed, nodding resiliently. I sat down on floor, freeing myself to few drinks.

After a brief, John #2 and I began to talk about politics. “We would get along fine even though you disagree to my political opinions about Obama, right?”

I nodded. Then Karenina gave me a reminder with wide-open eyes inquiry: “Do not bring up politics” look.

Last time I brought it up, it was at Sarah’s place. In the end, Karenina and I were left alone by Puggan and others, because of my ardent and blunt talk. I was intoxicated significantly. Karenina was mad at me that night. Next day she’d lecture me about watch yourself and be careful about what you say to people or they won’t believe you. The usual norm way of thinking.

So I didn’t say a thing over at Juggan’s place. Until Rusty arrived.

I was more than happy to see him. He had beers with him. We talked. He was worried, in a shock-of-state, looking at my shirt. “Nazi?” 

I shook my head at the suggestion. “Nazi sympathizer? I heard about it all from Sarah… She told me what happened that night, and…anti-foreign deaf people?”

I looked at him as if nothing happened that night. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Not European deaf people anyways. Mostly the rest of others.” I probably went too far.

That night relaxed away. For me, at least. Probably not for them. Later, contrary to the plan, it was said that I was drunk enough not to drop to Karenina home.

And so I went home. And I adored that memory next day.

And then I found later that the same night I wore the uniform, there was a riot protest against Neo Nazis, or something, in Germany.