Goddag! Jag älskar dig!

It's interesting how people react to the fact that you're Swedish. They thow the phrases they know at you, or tell you about the bands or carbrands they know of, and in some cases they have long monolouges about the very cool cars in Västerås (raggarbilarna!) that meet every year and that Miss Julie is on in Dublin and all sorts of things.

Well, I think that the above was the best reaction so far though. We were out for one on thursday and I happened to be talking to the bartender a bit. When he found out I was from Sweden he said "goddag!", and "Jag älskar dig!". Now this is maybe not the most practical phrases to know in a language. I answered "But we just met!" wich made him a bit embarrassed I think. I kept talking to him though, and I also returned the day after. There's just something with bartenders, I don't know why. Cute bartenders especially.

So friday was fun, or would have been fun if everyone wasn't so very tired (and sitting at the back close to the fireplace didn't really help, especially since everything got covered in soot). Also, unexpected company showed up and started talking to me like we were old friends, not two people who dated some time ago untill he ended it with a textmessage. He had no obligation to do it in any other way, but it was unexpected and hello, text. Anyhow, he asks me if I left a hoodie at his place, wich I didn't. "Are you sure?" "Yes, it was probably someone else." "Really sure? A grey hoodie with like pockets and stuff..." "Well give it to me if you really want to" "Sure!" "Yeah, well, you have my number." He didn't respond to that. What the? What does he mean by this? And then he keeps talking about architecture and travelling and how he likes the smell from the fire and my god and then he just leaves. I don't understand men. At all.

Well, cute bartender guy did cheer me up by asking me out (even after I shouted "I'm just so tired of... Guys!" while he was standing right behind me) but we did leave quite early to go over to Dave's and fall asleep in front of Rocky Horror.

Today is saturday, the sun is shining, we're all awake and not very hungover and we're going into town to spend all of our brand new shiny money. I am going to buy some presents, and possibly a sweater. Glorious. I think maybe washing the soot of first might be a good idea though. Tonight I think we're just watching movies or possibly going for one, and tomorrow we're going to Limerick! Yay.

The bottom line then: All men are assholes, if not to me then to someone else. The date seemed like a really nice guy, and he was clearly a total dickhead. Some other bartender in some other part of the word might be wonderful towards me, but I have a distinctive feeling that he might be treating someone else, who happens to be in the same country as him, a bit crappy. And the cute bartender who's number I happened to have will probably turn out to be an asshole as well, but I'll give him the benefit of a doubt for a while.