Goldie
My name is Goldie. I am a dog, a golden retriever.
I’m a pretty on-going guy, you know, waking up around 8-9am, eating these cereals…well, I don’t know if they really, REALLY are actually cereals but if I imagine hard enough->cereals they are!
After this I usually take a p*ss. I have been encouraged to do this outside.
So, out of the door into the hallway and down the stairs it is, “Rop, rop, rop” I go like a super-dog when it comes to downward stair climbing.
I’m downstairs and opening the hallway door now by jumping against it and grabbing the handle with my front paws, E-Z! I’m outdoors.
PT
It's 8:59 on a Saturday morning and there seem to be some senior citizens piled up against the front door of the supermarket, “Let us in!” some of them are shouting…and it is possible that this is just my imagination.
Anyway, it’s about time. The young guard on the inside of the supermarket walks towards the doors, I can smell the fear on his face…if that’s possible, you know, to be able to smell fear on a person’s face through 2 glass doors. Oh well, I guess ANYTHING’s possible in this great future.
The young guard opens the doors->the senior citizens obviously go nuts…buuut he only gets violated slightly by a wheelchair and lives to tell the story. All good.
So what the heck is PT doing here?
Scenario 1.
PT went to bed early last night and now has a two hour head start over the others who are trying conquer the world.
Scenario 2.
PT is still breathing the decadence of yesterday and wants to support the La Vida Loca.
Goldie
Man, isn’t this just wonderful, 9:15 on a Saturday morning, everything so fresh and non-decadent…EXCEPT for that dude with a beanie hat walking my way in about 40 meters distance.
There is a slight resemblance here, it looks somewhat like my friend PT Loren…wait a second, it IS PT Loren!
PT
Ok, the situation is a bit intense, there are these two gates ahead that one must pass in order to enter the supermarket and one has to run like the wind in order to get through these or one might never make it to the other side and will be stuck in a commercial limbus 4-eva!
So run like the wind PT, run like the wind!
I am absolutely and totally fearless and like a knight in his shiny armor I rush towards the gates...suddenly the loudspeaker of the supermarket starts to make an announcement:
“PT, PT, you da man, you da man!” it starts…and continues: “Remember, go right from the Two Gates, go right and straight to the beer section, all other products are for children” it goes.
How the heck did they know?
I mean, I never said I was DA man, did I? Ok, maybe I DID but damn sure not to the chicks at the info desk who make these announcements. Go figure.
So bravely into the supermarket through the Two Gates I go.
I’m in.
Hmm, what did they say...oh yes, right, go right->going right now, and uhmm...I need some assistance here guys!
The loudspeaker goes: “Walk 25 meters, again turn to your right, grab a 6-pack of beer and continue to the check-out”
Ok, I think I’ll manag…wait it still continues “Put the 6-pack on the line, take out your wallet from your pocket and give the nice lady on the desk a 10 euro bill!”
Sounds pretty simple, I’m going...wait-WAIT, it still-STILL continues!
“Let her do the math, do NOT start arguing about it, she knows!”
Ok, so walk 25 meters. Walking, “rump, rump, rump”.
I’m here.
Grab the beers. Grabbing the beers now, “Grrrrab!”
Go to the check-out. Going, “rump, rump, rump”.
Take out the wallet->give a 10 euro bill to the nice lady on the desk->let HER do the math->do NOT start arguing about it, she knows!
And just like that I’m out of the store with a 6-pack of beer! Awesome!
Ok, gotta get out of here, like NOW, NOW, NOW before the virtual finger of the common morality catches me and makes me about 1 meter tall.
What a beautiful Saturday morning though and here I am, just swaggering in the streets of the eastern Helsinki about to go home to have a cold one; the beautiful side of life right before it makes a 180 turn!
I will jam that side to stay the way it is with a few bottles of beer...let it make that 180 turn a little later.
But say, isn’t that Goldie the golden retriever taking a p*ss over there by the fire hydrant? It is Goldie!!
Goldie
“There you have it fire hydrant…and there, and there!! Oh, hi PT Loren!"
What on earth are you doing here at this hour PT, this is Saturday MORNING, shouldn’t you still be, you know, in your self-created penalty box for a while?
“Hrrrr...Ghholdie my friend, I’m coming home from a party last night and you won’t behhhlieve what just happened!!!”
PT looks somewhat like he would like to open about this, so I just let him continue.
“See, Goldie” starts PT Loren and continues “While coming home, I went to the supermarket and guess what!?”
I go “woof!” and PT seemingly takes it as a “Please continue”…since he still continues!
“Schee, there was this loudspeaker...a LOUD schpeaker, which guided me straight to the beer section, almost like HAND-IN-HAND, man!! ...Which is where I grabbed these from!” goes PT, shaking a 6-pack in his hand.
“PT, you are the…”
“Man, I know, the loudspeaker at the schhhupermarket said the same thing” PT interrupts and mumbles something about the significance of being a credible artist and makes his entrance in to the hallway I just exited.
Say, that’s a nice looking golden retriever...ess across the street, I think I’ll go and introduce myself.
