Monday, September 27, 2010

Are These Girls Hitting On Us???

I'm baaaaaaaaaack!

Hey hos,

I am back with another fabulous story. Are you excited? Were you worried this day would never come? It's okay, so was I. But we made it. You and I, together forever. I promise.

So, we're going to resume our relationship with a story from my time in Denmark. Somewhere around two years ago, I spent four months of my junior year living in the capitol city of Copenhagen and picking up all sorts of fabulous Danish customs which I had to un-learn upon moving back to the states (the hardest one to lose: drinking in class and in the town square as a way of celebrating a good day). This is by far one of my favorite Danish memories and I hope it elicits a few giggles as you read through.


Are These Girls Hitting On Us???

In my study abroad school, the students were divided up by academic programs. My group, communications and mass media, consisted of about twenty-six kids from Russia, Canada, China and the US. Throughout the semester, each program goes on two or three field trips through Denmark and greater Europe. For the communications program's first trip, we stopped in a small town in Western Denmark named Ringkøbing. 

For our one night in Ringkøbing, we were invited to stay at a convent which had a strict lights out and lock-in time of 12am. Luckily for me and my fellow communication students, our charter bus rolled into Ringkøbing around 8pm. The twenty-six of us quickly decided that drinks were in order, so after claiming rooms and laying down our luggage, we took to the city and sought out the only legitimate bar in the town.  

Now, I have to be honest: I wasn't all that close to anyone in my program. But if I had to name the two people I liked best, they would be Emery and Ekaterina. Ekaterina was from a small town in Maryland and did everything exactly as she wanted, all of the time. As we wandered off of the bus, she complained about all the girls getting dolled up just to grab a few drinks. Seeing an opportunity to cement my social circle for the evening, I volunteered to wear sweats to the bar with her. All of the other girls in our program balked at the idea and continued coating their lashes in Revlon as Ekaterina and I pulled on our scrungiest, comfiest, warmest sweat pants.

We grabbed Emery on our way into the bar and alerted him that he would be our buddy for the evening. So as the twenty-six members of my program found seating in the bar, I cozied up to a table with my two favsies and settled in for a few drinks.

We started out with shots of Jack Daniels on Emery's tab. The bar was named Shooters (can you believe it?) and Emery had on a Jack Daniels t-shirt, so he christened our table "Team Jack" and promised to cover all shots of Jack for the evening. I should have known then that we were in for a long ride. Ekaterina and I took our shots graciously but quickly forgot Emery and got lost in a conversation between ourselves (basically, ripping on the crazy girls in our program. Can you see why we got along so well?). 

I love you all enough to find this bar on GoogleMaps

About two hours, a few rounds of beers, a two rounds of Jack shots later, the majority of our program left Shooters to head back to the convent. Although it was only 10ish, they worried that they would get too drunk to get back on time (a fair argument as the convent was about half a mile away and were navigating the path in the dark). Instead of leaving with them, Team Jack bought another round and stayed on.

We engaged in completely ridiculous conversation and, for whatever reason, Emery kept the shots coming. At one point he got up to get another tray of shots and two Danish girls came over to the table. Ekaterina and I had seen them earlier in the bathroom. They were slim, blond, and dressed in glittering, skin-tight gold dresses. Their hair was teased into crazy angles that only Danish girls can ever pull off. Both girls were wearing heels despite the brick roads of  Ringkøbing. One girl was amazingly tall and the other was a typical height of 5'4 or so. 

The tall girl pulled up a bar stool beside me, "Hi, I'm Lenja." (Pronounce it Len-YA) She pointed to her shorter friend who was beside Ekaterina, "This is Sacha." Ekaterina and I rolled our eyes at each other. We were used to girls trying to get in with us just so they could hit on Emery; he was gorgeous and though I was figuring out how gay I was at the time, even I couldn't deny Emery's good looks. Tall, brunette, and just dark enough to look exotic without implicating a specific country of origin, Emery was smart, he played soccer, and he was amazingly fit.

"Our friend's name is Emery," Ekaterina said. "No, he's not taken but he is from Canada and is only in town for the night."

Lenja and Sacha looked at each other awkwardly. Sacha finally slid her arm around Ekaterina's shoulder. "I don't care about what your friend's name is. What is your name?" I felt Lenja drop her hand to my thigh and I looked over to Ekaterina, who was clearly just as confused as I was.

We introduced ourselves as it began to dawn on us that maybe, just maybe, we were getting hit on. This is when Emery choose to re-join the table. Emery took one look at these girls and, knowing just how gorgeous he was, began hitting on them with a confidence that only boys who always score can have. Ekaterina and I  continued to stare at each other in shock and mumble incoherent words every now and again. Very quickly, we could see Emery's distress as the girls tried to ignore his advances and continued to touch and look at Ekaterina and I. Finally, Lenja and Sacha couldn't handle it anymore, and they left the table.

Emery inquired about our guests immediately, "Did those girls seem weird to you?"

We burst out laughing. "Oh my God!" We shrieked between shots, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

"We're wearing sweats!" I screamed! "Sweats!"

"I know! I can't believe..." We burst out in more giggles.

"What?" Emery asked, looking at us both cautiously. "What are you two going on about?"

"Hitting on us!" I half whispered to Emery, "those girls! They were trying to pick us up."

Emery shook his head, "You're joking."

Ekaterina, "As I live and breathe! They think we're sexy-"

"In our sweat pants!" I finished. We both burst out in more giggles. 

Emery looked at us both with new found respect. "Whoa. That's kind of hot."

"Oh shut up and take us home," Ekaterina ordered as she and I polished off the last two shots on the table.

The first quarter mile of the walk back to the convent was simple: we filled Emery in on exactly what had happened while he'd been retrieving the final supply of shots. Then Ekaterina and I decided to hold hands and pretend we were actually together since we were obviously super awesome (and so super drunk). It's around this time that we came across the construction site. Ekaterina had to pee and recruited me to go with her. "Girls don't let friends pee alone." She said. 

"Or girlfriends," I corrected. We began giggling all over again and the next thing I remember we were both fully clothed lying on our backs side by side in front of a bulldozer. 

"Oh no." Emery was standing above us looking worried. "Get up, we have fifteen minutes to get back."

"No," Ekaterina shouted, "we're sleeping out here. In the dirt." She grabbed my hand. "It's okay, Abernathy will stay with me."

"No no no no no," Emery shook his head. "We're all going back to the convent."

"I don't think so." Ekaterina taunted.

"If I have to pick you up and carry you back, you're going home. Is that understood?" I looked over at Ekaterina. She had a crush on Emery (like every girl in our program... but me) and I could see the gears turning in her head.

I sat up. "I'll walk home if you carry Ekaterina." 

I am such an awesome friend.

Emery looked at me suspiciously, but he bent down and picked Ekaterina up anyway. She didn't let go of my hand so I stood up as Emery hoisted her over his shoulder.

As we walked through the glass double doors of the convent, we heard the automatic clocks click to lock us in. Looking up at the clock in the corner, we realized we made it home seconds before our deadline.


Today's points:

My friend, K, says the point of this story is I make a cute butch lesbian. I disagree (I'm sure I make a cute butch, but that's not The Point). I think that the point of this story everyone is attracted to ladies who are comfortable in their skin. That and people always think you're hottest when you aren't even trying. In sweats or evening gowns, if we're comfy and having a good time without worrying about impressing anyone, those are our magic moments.

No comments:

Post a Comment