April 7

What a weekend. On Friday, a Spanish girl named Marina arrived to Copenhagen and stayed at home for a couple of days; she got in touch through Couchsurfing and her message was so nice I decided to host her. We started the evening at Bang & Jensen, then we walked to Mikkeller and ended up at Cafe Ludwigsen, a very strange sports bar full of older women with young guys, drunk lone men, and groups of hip hop-looking youngsters. We spent less than an hour there and during that time, we were approached by two inebriated men: first, an sixty-something man who wouldn’t stop smiling at Marina and telling her how beautiful her eyes were, and then a thirty-something black dude who seemed pretty keen on starting a fight, just because I happened to be with the girl he had chosen to hit on. Things were getting a bit uncomfortable so we decided to leave and crossed the street to get some late night junk food before heading home.

At the kebab place, a couple of very drunk Danish girls heard us speaking in Spanish and asked us where we were from. From there, a very friendly conversation unfolded, one that quickly escalated and went from “what are you doing in Denmark?” to “I have a piercing in my pussy”, in just a matter of minutes. They were fun. So much so that Marina invited Camilla – the pierced girl – to stay at her place if she ever wanted to go visit her in Valencia. Alcohol certainly makes it easier for Danes to let loose and make some random friends along the way.

On Saturday, Marina and I went for a walk around the city centre and in the evening we went to The Union for a bit of live jazz, then we were joined by Carlos, Marianne, Nina, Janna and some of her friends from Germany, who were also visiting, and did a bit of a pub crawl, going in and out of very crowded bars. Eventually, we made it to The Jane, which is always good fun. There I met a girl named Mette, who told me she doesn’t like to listen to music that has been produced after the 60’s, which is not a bad thing, I guess. We had a brief chat and promised to get a drink sometime, whatever that means.

At 3am we decided to go back to The Union and there I met a girl named Xenia, with whom I started a conversation on my way out from the toilet; she was getting in, singing some awful Bruce Springsteen song and I just decided to point out how lame I thought that was. She defended “The Boss”, of course. Everyone does. We both presented our arguments and although we didn’t reach an agreement, I promised not to hold her music taste against her and said goodbye. Shortly after, a Rage Against The Machine song was played and when I saw her banging her head gleefully, I thought it was appropriate to give her a high five. She was with a guy who I assumed was her boyfriend but he turned out to be her brother, a really cool dude named Julius who is a filmmaker and that shortly will be moving to Los Angeles to take part in a course at the American Film Institute. He also used to play in a Rage Against The Machine cover band so it wasn’t pretty difficult for us to bond over our mutual love for Zack and company.

The three of us spent the night talking about music and film, exchanging stories and having a laugh. By the time the bar had to close, I joined my friends and bid them goodbye, only to meet them again ten minutes later in the street. My friends decided to go home but Marina, Julius, Xenia and I were in the mood for some more drinks so after getting chocolate cake leftovers and a free half-bottle of champagne from one of the lads at The Union, we decided to stop at a nearby 7-eleven, bought a six pack of Tuborg Classic and two big pizzas and spent a couple of hours talking about all sort of things; from Danish culture to Louis CK to odd sexual practices and their names in Spanish slang. We had a great time together.


From L-R: Marina, Julius and Xenia.

At 8am, it seemed reasonable to wrap things up and go home so we walked to our bus stops and bid goodbye, again, for the third time in the last five hours. Fell asleep around 8:30am and woke up six hours later, very hungry, so Marina and I met Carlos for lunch at The Union Kitchen; Carlos and I had the Bartender’s Hangover Burger (pretty good!) and Marina went for a Frittata with potatoes,  to which we added up a few pancakes with chocolate and a good cup of coffee. Not a bad way to start a Sunday, I tell you. Marina hit it off with Julius so they met after we ate and I decided to go home and lay in bed, barely moving, watching episodes of “The Shield”.


The Bartender’s Hangover Burger. Good stuff.

In the evening, I decided to send Xenia a message on Facebook, to let her know how much I enjoyed her company, and much to my surprise I discovered we had actually been in touch before, back in September 2013, when we briefly talked about the possibility of renting out an apartment together; she had posted a message on a house hunting website saying she was looking for people that could join forces to rent a big place in Copenhagen so I sent her a message to let her know I was interested. She replied but we never followed up on that and left it there. Now, seven months later, we have randomly met in bar, unaware of our previous written interaction, and ended up having a great night out. Life does works in mysterious ways.

Now, this was a really fun weekend and all that, but man, I’m fucking tired. And it’s only Monday. And my friend Kate is arriving tomorrow. Somebody please help me…

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