The plan was to go to my hotel, eat a nice pasta and go watch a movie later on. The day was payday Friday in Liverpool. I had no choice but to join the people I've been working with for a drink after work. It's a tradition on Fridays and on payday Friday it is obligatory. I've enjoyed working with them and this time they weren't taking me to a gaybar but to The Queens, were everybody from the adjacent offices meets after work. I would have a drink or two and go home on time to finish the evening as planned: all by myself with good food and a walk to the local movie theater.

Angela and Helen were at The Queens and so was Ronny, who finally came out of the closet. We checked out the good or interesting looking fellas. I came out as the winner in the Tell-whether-they're-straight-competition. But earlier this week I had made an error of judgement which was about to backfire. The assistant of Ronny looks gay to me but he isn't. Arthur the assistant turned up after my fourth glass of wine and a shot of apple vodka and seemed determined to prove me wrong. I agreed to going out tonight. He will be waiting in the lobby at 7.30 pm. No way out now.

I wish that was it, but it isn't. How could it be? I'd already had too many drinks and all his attention and flattering sounded better and more convincing than it ever would have if I'd been sober. He confessed that he'd had all the girls in the office - if you deduct the lesbians that number must be quite feasable - not something you win me over with. Since I knew he is a German (from Polish origin - I usually like Polish men - this was going somewhere) and I am a big fan of Thomas Mann I thought I'd switch the subject. He likes Thomas Mann but hadn't heard of Tonio Krüger (my favorite Mann novel) - a pity and an unbridgeable gap. With the water being too deep and my glass nearly empty I just wanted to go home, eat and sleep.

Arthur had other plans and proposed to go somewhere to eat. I agreed. My shoes were aching and the nearest food supply would do. Instead he led me to another bar where everybody agreed to meet later that evening. Too drunk to refuse, I had another drink. Luckily I dropped it on the dancefloor or I would've been in a coma today. The dragqueen discobar made sure everyone knew I'd dropped a glass when she turned the music down to ask somebody of the staff to clean the floor. Right, so I was dancing. I love dancing, especially when I'm slightly tipsy. Yesterday however I was plain and simple wasted. I danced and danced and found myself kissing Arthur the assistant. I managed to spot some more lesbians too.
Then all of a sudden it hit me that this wasn't supposed to happen and that if I drunk some more I would end up going home with Arthur or with one of the lesbians standing on the side of the dancefloor. So I grabbed my purse and left. First thing I did was buy a minibox of Pringles. I walked home in British ladies style: swaggering from one side of the sidewalk to the other and ate the Pringles on the way.

I ordered room service, managed to carry the tray into my room and started on the ham and pea soup. I experienced difficulties in finding my mouth and the plate of soup. I finished the soup and fell asleep, leaving a whole dish of penne untouched. Luckily pasta with tomatoes also tastes good when it's cold. I woke up in the middle of the night and finished what was left. Then I watched 'What would Jesus drive?' about the excessive use of cars in the US and the popularity of sports utility vehicles (known as the grotesque 4x4 in Belgium). Apparently some evangelist churches are using religion in the fight for a more considerate and environmental friendly use of cars. With a full tommy and the comforting thought I hadn't been out making a child to be born in this weird polluted world I fell back asleep.

Yesterday finished once again with a very interesting television night. I saw Jude Law at the age of 9 in The Pocket Money Show, Ewan McGregor blowing the French Horn in the mid eighties and Ali G before he was Ali G. I tried to read The Cutting Room (Louise Welsh) in the meantime but then 'house' started. A show on five with Hugh Laurie as a doctor. He's the head of a diagnostics department and teaching to emergency doctors to be. I used to be a hypochondriac, so needless to say I absolutely enjoyed guessing along what diseases the symptoms related to!

My stay in Liverpool is coming to an end and I don't mind really. Last Sunday I visited Manchester, which actually seemed much more alive than Liverpool. Since my guide was gay, I was taken to homewear shops and the gay village. A guy my father's age passed us by with his fly open. No underwear, just an open pair of jeans and a willie. That wouldn't have been a problem if my guide hadn't felt the urge to take the matter up with the passenger in question. Long discussion, checking each other out and then deciding not to go for it because you're out with a customer and still need to drive her back to her hotel in Liverpool. My account manager is great but he hasn't come out of the closet yet. Which I find really strange, because I haven't been avoiding the issue and we've been out eating and drinking quite a lot.

To make up for all that eating and drinking (Russian, Spanish, Italian but nothing traditionally English except breakfast in the hotel - a pity, I like pies and patries) I went to the gym quite a lot this week. My jeans is tighter than this time last week though. Carbohydrates + work out = killer thighs. Great.

So did I buy any audio books last week? Yes I did. I went to Waterstones and bought Atonement (Ian McShaw), An Equal Music (Vikram Seth) and 7 Detective Stories (Various authors). Since I have no cd-player at hand, I bought some paper books to get me through the week. I've finished The Oxford Murders by Guillermo Martinez which proved to be a really good mix of detective and maths. The Cutting Room is promising as well, but I haven't gotten further than page 30. I bought Philip Roth's Plot against America which will be someone's birthday present. And then there is Paul Auster's Oracle Night, which I bought because I think Matti recommended his writing.

Liverpool

I've just received an email that says I've won 2,500,000 $ and I'm a bit confused. Is it a coincidence that the contact address is in Liverpool, while I'm actually residing here until next Sunday? I'm tempted to call the 070 number and claim my prize ... I'd quit my job at the end of the month and develop my own projects in real estate and music. I'd buy my mom and dad a new car and get their house redecorated. I'd probably tell them to quit their jobs too. But let's not get overexited. This mail was sent to twenty other belgian emailaddresses. Before I start spending the first dollars in my new wallet I'd better have a look it the number is known by Google. And it is: "419" Scam / Fake lottery UK Phone Numbers.

Right. Bye, bye dollarsign.

I've been living a bit as a lottery winner though here in Liverpool. Because all hotels were full my company booked a room in the Radisson SAS for 15 nights. Excellent service, exquisite breakfast buffet. Floor heating in the bathroom! The worst part of it is that I really don't need all this. I'm not used to it and I found out floorheating is overrated. Except if you were living in Siberia or Greenland. Liverpool may be cloudy and windy, it is not cold. In an hour I'm off for a brisk walk along the Albert dock. I also want to go buy some audiobooks in the bigger bookstores. Since I'm no longer taking the train to work I miss the reading. In the evening my eyes ache from reading and writing procedures and manuals. I have a strong feeling audiobooks and I will be close friends.

I'm working in a building surrounded by the ones in the picture. The training week so far has been off and on interesting. I haven't met any interesting single straight male Liverpudlian. The most exiting moment this week was when a hyperanxious student (who happens to be gay, fashionvictim and dyslexic) fainted during my training. I wan't being obnoxious, authoriatarian or homophobic because that's not my style. No, he just fainted because he hadn't had breakfast and was afraid to do an exercise in front of the rest of the group. Honestly, I thought he was dead when I heard the bang and saw him lying on the floor. I desperately need a first aid course because even if you just faint in my class I do not know what to do. Someone put his feet in the air and asked whether he heard us. He gained consciousness very quickly, drank some deeporange lemonade, got up and asked if he was going to get the sack. I told him he was not going to get the sack because he fainted. He sure as hell wasn't going to get the sack because he was gay either. This place is bursting with gay employees! How on earth am I going to succeed in the additional task my crazy french boss gave me: to find a husband? English employees are famous for their drinks after work and what did I do yesterday evening? I went to a gaybar with two lesbians and one gay. I must say Helen is a rather attractive one and after a couple of glasses of wine I almost saw myself in a lesbian relationship. I'd heard she made a remark on my tight jeans earlier ...

But then again I'm sober now and the gaybar's closed.

So we all went home after two hours at the gaybar. Angela headed off for Amsterdam at 3am this morning, Helen had to take her eight year old brother out for his birthday today and I forgot what Richard's plans were. I went back to the hotel, got into my pyjamas and ordered room serive: macaroni leek bake and a green salad. Good food when you're a bit drunk. I went to sleep almost immediately after eating it and watching a friends episode on sky. I thought I was in for a good long rest but sleeplessness at 1am ruined that plan. I woke up extremely thirsty, drank what was left in my 1/2L water bottle, took a diet coke from the minibar and tried to go to sleep again. In vain. I kept thinking about the start of the campaign on Monday, all the work that still has to be done. I switched on the television, seached and found lame tv-shows: MTV for the deaf and auditory handicapped. Some lady dressed in fuchsia was dancing to and fingerspelling the texts of the songs. I'd never imagined there to be a marked for this target group on MTV. I stared at the show for five full songs. One of The Kaisers Chiefs, Natalia Imbruglia, David Powter, The Black Eyes Peas and Franz Ferdinand. Then I'd had enough. Still, I was and am stunned to be so unknowing about the world of auditory handicapped. From there it went to a Bollywood movie about a female doctor who refused to go for a ride with a male colleague whom she obviously fancied, because she had no slippers on?! On channel 4 I saw parts of the truck version of Carrie: thirty tons diesels with a mind of their own on the lose killing innocent and helpless humans. BBC1 showed news on Wilma and the bird's flu. I managed to see a whole episode of an american detective. Al Bundy (what's this guy's real name?) solved the puzzle when he found out the rich lady had killed her husband and his mistress because he was going to leave her. I guess it could happen to me too if I'd really win the lottery and would find myself a husband.

But let's go for the audiobooks first. According to some deathtest on the internet I've got 54 years left before I die. I'll never be able to live with someone for that long anyway. Don't hurry, be happy.