July. Monday night. There were many people on the loose, some wasted on alcohol, others on antidepressants.
I picked up a bewildered guy in the Tapiola post in southeast Espoo. Before sitting in the taxi, he went and took a high-arced piss on an illuminated commercial banner in front of me. After the golden shower, he sat in the car and told me he wanted to go to Viikkari. I asked: “What the hell is a Viikkari?” “Oh, you don’t know??” Mister Piss-stream wondered. “Don’t you know Viking Arms?” It turned out to be a pub in Laajahti district, near Tapiola (about 3km). Fuck, they have a slang word for everything – Viikkari, Mäkkari (Mc Donalds), täppari (a Tablet), läppari (a laptop)…
He clearly wasn’t right in his head because the whole way to Viikkari he was acting like he would hit me. I looked to see what the hell was he wrestling back there. He explained: “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to really hit you, I’m just joking…”
Well, great: Finnish “jokers” moving around on a Monday night.