Deppy and Dippy

While on a few days holiday in Gdansk (Poland) myself Sparkling, L & B Man and HMRC woman enjoyed a few nights out. Fine dinning, followed by excessive amounts of alcohol, part of which is the obligatory few shots of vodka or Wodka as they call it and just enjoying the entire experience. Sparkling isn't used to doing much walking and when she does she tends to get a dippy hippy. It's the muscles in her leg and on account of one being slightly shorter or longer than the other. So her dippy hippy walk comes into play. Where she leans over slightly to the left and her bag sits on her right hip. Not a lot but it is one of those things. At least it isn't as bad as my own explosive farting, which is I am sure is related to carbohydrate intake. Nevertheless on such occasions Sparkling becomes Dippy. Well for this occasion she did.

We'd had a meal in the Buddha restaurant, which I must say I wasn't impressed by the samosas and then hit a club called Fahrenheit and just at the point when HMRC woman was about to fall off her seat and sleep, we decided to move on. On the way back to the hotel we passed another pub on a corner which unlike where we had come from was absolutely packed out. In due course mentioned this to the crew and said lets hit this place just for one shot of raspberry wodka, Dippy's favourite high spirited tipple. as we entered the small doorway there sitting at a bar was a short man, dressed with a brimmed hat, and long coat, he had black glasses on and his facial hair had grown in such a style it seemed like he could of been a Johnny Depp look-alike, except he was a little shorter and possibly even shorter than Dippy. Immediately Dippy sees him she heads directly to him, points a finger at him and says "you look just like Johnny Depp" followed by "can I have my photograph with you." The earlier few drinks had obviously broken down any doubts or inhibitions in Dippy's mind for the only thing that mattered now for the last part of our Gdansk holiday seemed to be Dippy's infatuation with Deppy. Although saying this Dippy did go walking off afterwards and sat at another table, leaving me to continue a conversation with Deppy. Who it turns out is a pianist and opera singer. His voice is a particular type and there are few people of that vocal range, he also does acting, but let me say not in the same league as the real Johnny, which would be absolutely silly. I chatted to Deppy about the ukulele, he chatted to me about how he loved to play the piano and his theory that there is a magical 10,000 hours of practice which changes a musician from amateur to expert. He was passionate about his playing and although I was non too impressed by being left with Deppy to continue this chat further he was actually better company than the rest of my companions. HMRC had captured to natives in a conversation about the welfare system of the UK, Dippy was in some way involved in this as well, considering how much wodka she had consumed I was better seated with Deppy. In the meantime, L & B man was periodically coming to the bar buying drinks, talking absolute and complete gibberish with the very few words he did speak, and sticking his middle finger up to Deppy from behind Deppy. It very much was a case of pretending L & B did not exist and I don't think he was sure he actually existed at this time as well.

Deppy had discussed with Dippy what he did, which was play the piano and sing in an opera. Dippy thought Deppy was playing the central role at a local theatre, we checked out this very old looking theatre like building and could not see Deppy's face on any of the posters. Dippy just couldn't make sense of it and it didn't help she was trying to remember something which had been said to her while drunk. Whilst L & B never remembers a thing just he had drank too many and was later the same evening found himself sleeping on the first floor hallway of the hotel rather than being in his actual room which was on the third floor. I wouldn't mind but even HMRC woman spent a few minutes on the floor outside her own room on account of not having an entrance card, which I might add I had to go three flights down the stairs to get. It's bloody lucky I wasn't sleeping on the carpet on the second floor hallway. To move on. So the next day on looking for Deppy and wherever he was performing we drew a  blank. Again after a few too many drinks we gently began to make our way back to the hotel and there outside the front of a pub/restaurant, in the rain, under a large umbrella was Deppy playing on an electric and suspect piano. Old favourites were belted out, such as the theme from the Godfather. Deppy certainly knew what he was doing. In order for Dippy and HMRC woman to get a bit of time alone listening to Deppy, I and L & B man were ordered to go walk past a possible prostitute and get some items for the hotel room.  As we approached the young lady with a Pink umbrella, she asked if we'd like to see a stripper to which L & B man said "no, we're gay." About twenty minutes later we returned from a shop back to the pub/restaurant.  Dippy went on to tell me how when we had walked off old Deppy was giving her the eye and she was pretty happy about it.

The night went on and it led to more over indulgence, but Dippy was exceptionally excited she was able to pull Deppy. Whereas I was gay.