Hard Rock

Any city worth its salt has to have a Hard Rock Cafe, and that is where we found ourselves, not on the inside but the outside, along with all the miscreants, vagabonds and just cheap-ass drug addicts, who wanted to listen to music without the added disadvantage of buying expensive drinks. And the balcony of the Hard Rock in Helsinki lends itself very well to this because music streams from it clearly into the open square below. This is where we stood, wanting to appear unorthodox, enjoying being outsiders; but not really, because we were well dressed academics and recent patrons of several other establishments, where we had spent a considerable amounts of Euros.

We knew we were part of the dominant paradigm, indeed we reinforced it, but just for an hour or two we wanted to feel like rebels. Of course the real rebel was the young man trying to scale a wall to join the revelers on the balcony. He couldn't or didn't want to use the door like everybody else. 'Why do the ordinary when I can do the extra-ordinary' he must have thought to himself, obviously stoned.

We first ridiculed his failed attempts to clutch onto a bare wall, but his determined pacing up and down, interjected with repeated futile jumps inspired us with awe. A growing respect for his sheer resolve silenced our laughter as we watched deluded youthfulness unfold before our eyes. Soon, a few more soldierly spirits joined him and the amalgamation of their concerted efforts paid off! They all, one by one, jumped onto the balcony, caring less for the doctoral candidates and professors below, who, true to their profession, stole this meaningless moment and turned it into an academic discourse on convention, rights and relations.

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