I was seeking some creative inspiration for the blog yesterday afternoon so when Mr_Moi suggested we head to the nearby Arena Bar for an aperitif, I agreed wholeheartedly.
Trudging through the snow, we arrived there at about 5:30pm, and we ordered a beer (500mL cloudy something-or-other that was brewed in the premises), and some sausages from the aptly named “Meals for Beer” menu.
After working non-stop all weekend, Mr_Moi was keen to have a couple of beers and go; in his words, “Early out and about, early home”. But so engaging was our general chit chat that it eventually led to another beer, which lead to us philosophising about how darn perfect we are, another beer, and strategising how we can make the world as perfect as us.
Five hours and five beers each later, we asked for the bill (in my by then perfectly fluent Russian, which they totally comprehended), went home via McDonald’s (the sausages weren’t enough), and, with some more philosophising about the ‘international language of fast food’, skated home on the snow like loud obnoxious foreigners.
The only thing we didn’t theorise a solution for was: what does ‘democratic pricing’ mean?