Beneath a grey wet blanket dripping polite spheres of rain I had myself a little spend today. Mannheim has a great shopping area in which to procure some shoes (damnit, the ones I bought before leaving home were too tight after all) and a couple of shirts. Why have I never thought of entering TK Maxx before? It’s actually not bad! I thought hard for a moment about whether or not it would be a good idea to buy a t-shirt emblazoned with a pixelated photo of a naked woman… My taste sensors came back on line and I quickly buried the hideous garment between the plethora of alternately repellent designs. But lo, I did find shoes and a short-sleeved button-down shirt that suited me well enough.
Short of lying sprawled in my bed, slithering in olive oil, and spoon-fed by an attractive chambermaid, eating in Mannheim could scarcely be easier for the average (deranged, male heterosexual) vegetarian. Heller’s Vegetarisches Restaurant & Café is a feed-yourself affair, where the cost of food is calculated by its weight. Over my two visits I consumed a kilogram of food, much of which, should it concern your desire to eat here, was vegan.
Last night, Dan twisted my arm to break a loose commitment of abstinence, and we joined a bunch of UHTC crew for drinks. Well let me tell you — I certainly got hammered, that’s for sure. It was a good night, ending with a stumble into my hotel room, and a flop on the bed, which would hold me in its grip until 11.30 this morning, an unusually late get-up for yours deranged truly. I shan’t be repeating the affair any time soon, as it affects my ability to write; I struggled with some fiction work today, but I’m getting very close to the end of the second draft of the first half of the book. Yeah, that’s kinda like telling your kids “we’ll soon arrive at the last stretch to almost there,” but I have to be positive. No, no drinkies this eve; it’s a school night, so sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs drown.