Another Drunk Bothering Me...

I don't know what it is about me.  Maybe it's the well-trimmed beard or something, but these drunks keep bothering me.  Just yesterday I was minding my own business.  I had my headphones on so that the dude at the phone store wouldn't bother me.  I was also listening to a podcast, but the main reason for the headphones was the phone store guy.  Doesn't he get it? I live in this neighborhood.  I pass you every day - listening to media on MY FUNCTIONING PHONE - and you still ask me if I want to come in and talk to you about a phone plan.  I don't know anyone who bought a phone plan from one of these guys here or in the States.  It's weird that the strategy is still used.  It's just harassment.

So I avoided the phone guys with my newly adopted Swedish-blinders-while-walking technique.  It's effective when used moderately.  It was raining because it's the summer in 2015 in Stockholm and that must be in the damn contract.  So I walked under the overhang.  I saw a woman and a man by the ATM.  I was no longer in Swedish-blinders-while-walking mode, so I made eye contact with the woman.  She was drunk as shit.  The man with her was drunker as shit.  I don't think I've seen a conscious person that drunk before.  He was doubled over and shaking like Puff Daddy in the "Let's Get It" video.

The drunk dude was doing this shimmy the whole time.

So imagine my new drunk friend doing this dance with a large can of cheap beer in his hand.  Then a dark-haired Swedish woman with bad skin and eyes squinted from drunkenness.  I walked past them.  I had no choice.  It was raining just a few feet to my right.  No big deal. I had my headphones.  She didn't care.  I noticed that her beer bottle was 3/4 full and sitting on left side of the ATM they were posting up in front of.  Like I said, she didn't care.  I didn't want her to touch me because... well, germs.  I removed my headphones and prepared for whatever racist and insensitive shit she was about to say.  I told myself I wouldn't get angry.  She's drunk as shit.  He loves to Harlem Shake.  Just humor her.  She put her cheek inches away from my face.  I thought she wanted me to kiss her.  I knew that was impossible.  I leaned back like buddy in the Fat Joe video.


She didn't care.  She was drunk.  She saw my reaction and decided it was time to ask the question that was on her mind. 

       - Hur mår du?  (How are you?)
       - (in Swedish) Fine. Always!

If you read my last blog entry, you know this is my standard response to "Hur mår du." Now she leaned back in surprise.  I smiled my trademark winning smile.  The rest of the conversation was in Swedish.

       - Tell me how you manage to be good all the time!
       - Well... I'm alive.  That's a reason to be glad.  One should just smile and be glad with life.
       - Well that's just great.  I like you.  I'm going to try and do that!
       - Great!

I kept smiling as she reached her germy hand out.  I had to shake it.  There I was prepared for a racist or offensive remark and she was just a nice drunk lady with a hyper backup dancer.  I'm done judging books by their drunk ass covers.  We shook hands and I walked off feeling good.  Gotta love Högdalen.  Until next time...

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