Day 5: Grand finale

So, as my final unusual and different activity this week, I attended a party hosted by my colleague Bojan. I'd been invited awhile back, but I didn't think I'd go. I try to be careful about extracurricular consorting with colleagues. Then, of course, came my idea for a week of dangerous blogging. This was a perfect fit.

There were 4 other colleagues and 3 of Bojan's non-work friends (plus 2 interns but they only stayed an hour.) Bojan has a very nice apartment not too far from my house. We chatted around the bar in his kitchen as he mixed drinks. One of his friends works for British-American Tobacco (not kidding) and brought several boxes of the Dunhill cigarettes that he gets for free. I don't get anything for free from my employers. Well, of course, we have been hit by the global economic downturn, whereas his industry is recession-proof.

Piotr, a Russian friend of Bojan's, was visiting Holland for a wedding. He and his wife live in London. After he'd had a few drinks, he began to tell me about his misery at having to live in a house in a very posh neighborhood that is paid for and fully decorated by...his mother. "I think it would have been better if she'd just made the down payment, but she insists on paying the mortgage and, thus, she can decorate the house in the way she wants and come over all the time."

When I asked him how his wife feels about this arrangement, he prevaricated. Actually, an interfering mother-in-law is probably the least of their problems. Later in the night, he was buying drinks for women, dancing and...how do I put this?...not behaving like a married man.

So yes, we went out to a club. Bojan had announced beforehand that around midnight we'd hit the town. Normally, that is so not my thing. But this week is all about the abnormal. First, we hit a club called Havana. I got in fine, but, for some reason, the bouncers wouldn't let Bojan in. So we moved on to a club called Hofman. It was the usual loud music and drinking type place. I'd had a few glasses of prosecco, but I was still far too sober to see a group of stiff-hipped northern-european high-earning young professionals trying to 'get down' as anything other than awkward.

Bojan did slighly better than the rest because he embraces his awkwardness. He was trying to teach me dance moves like "the lawn mower" and "the shopping cart."

At around 3am, I decided I should quit while I was ahead. I made my usual 5-minute walk home. The streets were full of people. I thought I'd be too wired to sleep, but I actually dropped off within minutes. What can I say? It wasn't an edifying evening, but it was certainly unusual and different. And, man, was it fun.