I keep talking about Sweden, but I don't think I've ever shared my personal memories. Time to do so.
In the past, I mentioned Sweden’s creativity when talking about the safety belt, and when discussing Evil / Ondskan as well as Lilja 4-ever, and posted a video clip with Swedish children on God in the article about the obsolete and pre-Christian ritualism of the Romanian Orthodox Church. But these are all just small reasons to love Sweden. Most of my reasons are not really “reasons” but rather emotional memories, accumulated during a trip I took there many years ago.
While hopping from Scandinavian to Baltic to Scandinavian country I took the ferry quite a few times, and though many crazy things happened on that ferry, mostly involving drunk, aggressive teenage girls, that still wasn’t it.
I’m not particularly inspired to tell this story today, but the fear of losing these memories is a medium-strength motivator.
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Don’t remember how I got to this magical Stockholm night club; there was something in the air that night, to quote Abba. Everybody seemed happy, there was a good mix of nationalities and races, the sex ratio was 1.3:1 or so on the beautiful side, the music was good – not too housy, but not too grundgy either. I sat down, getting a feel of that large space and was considering getting a drink, when some cocky dude sat down next to me, introduced himself and struck up a conversation, offering me a beer. He mentioned being a football (soccer) player and I assumed he was just a fan who also played and not just watched. I muted my fear that he might be coming on to me and told him, among other things, how much I liked the place and he expressed his admiration for Romanian women, asking me what I think about the Swedish chicks. I answered that the combination of good looks, height and good education was tough to beat. He replied “Nah, they’re all bitches here. Let’s go dance.”
There hadn’t been much action on the dance floor up to that point, but for some reason, when he went there, a bunch of girls stormed it dancing all around him all competing for his attention. I decided to dance as well and soon enough, a few entered my sphere of influence, but not for long – sadly for me, his gravity pull was stronger (this seldom happens to me which is perhaps this is a very pregnant memory). Still, it ended up a pretty good night.
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