“You do NOT want to get political with me!” I’m screaming. Top of my lungs. Full force. I’m screaming, and I’m probably spitting all over my friend who is trying to calm me down.
My head weaves to the right of her face, so I can get a good look at my oppressor. She’s too quick for me and continues to mirror my bobbing and weaving so that I can’t make eye contact with this douchebag motherfucker.
“You do NOT want to get political with me!” I repeat, because clearly–he does not want to get political with me.
It’s 5AM on a Saturday morning, post-club, we’re standing in line to hail a cab, it’s misting out, and I’m embarrassing myself and my friends in front of large percentage of the city’s Danish youth. I am just raging at this giant Norwegian guy in the middle of the street–jumping towards his towering physique, flailing my arms in the air in all my fury, and just being extremely World Star Hip Hop-ish cray.
He had asked me in a very accusatory tone, “Why do you have to bring such an attitude to Denmark?” To which I was immediately offended by and when the yelling started.
“What the FUCK is that supposed to mean?” The East Van in me is awakened.
He subsequently calls me a racist.
In my drunken state, I transcend into this obnoxious know-it-all Canadian girl. “You want to talk about political correctedness? Let’s do it LET’S DO IT NOW!” I shout.
“Kaylynn,” this is about the fifth time one of my friends is clasping my shoulders. “Let’s go home, it’s not worth it. Ignore him.”
More shouting ensues, further angry drunken words are exchanged, and I continue to make a scene despite the cajoling of my friends. Someone tells one of my friends to shut the fuck up. Tempers flare. I am going to kill someone via heated political discussion anytime now.
One of the Norwegian Guy’s equally massive friends appears on my left, “We’re really sorry. We’re going to go home this way, and you and your friends can go home that way, and we’ll never have to see each other ever again.”
He’s probably genuinely hoping he never runs into us ever again. In hindsight, I can understand why.
I don’t remember what exactly happens next, but I somehow get shuffled away from the Norwegian Guy and his very tall friends, and we get into a cab. I vocally and very liberally express my hatred for the Norwegian Guy as the cab driver takes us back home to our dorm. What a fucking asshole. I complain the entire way home about my attitude. I complain about my attitude.
“Do I have an attitude problem?” I wail in the backseat of the cab.
I have no pictures from that night, but here is a picture of me when I’m not trying to antagonize strangers while studying abroad in a foreign country.
Last night I saw Thor: The Dark World (I wish Dr. Erik Selvig was naked for more of the movie) and then went to Venue to see Morgan Page. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know who Morgan Page is (“Which one is he? The one with the toque or..?”) but I went for moral support/it was free.
While standing in the archetypal mile-long line for the women’s washroom, the girls my friend and I were sandwiched between had a conversation that went along the lines of:
Girl #1: Oh my God, it does not take that long to pee.
Girl #2: Oh my God, I know right? This is so ridiculous. Do you want to go bang on some doors? I’m down to do that.
Girl #1: *says something along the lines of agreeing–was not really listening because she was annoying*
Girl #2: I like you! You’re from East Van, aren’t you? Haha, oh my God, you’re from East Van, aren’t you!
What the fuck, dude. What is your problem? I’m from East Van. And I have friends who were born and raised in East Van, and we do not
go make empty threats about banging on washroom stall doors because inebriated chicks who are at the brink of puking are apparently taking more than 30 seconds to pee. Like y’all are sober, what is the rush? Can’t we just all be in this together on this journey called life????
At the same time, we can all learn something from people who lack civility and who forget that they’re living in a society that ideally aims towards a sense of community. These moments remind me to consider kindness and respect for other people. I actually watched an incredibly rude girl get kicked out before she even got in the club. Forreal, she was very loudly complaining about how disgusting Vancouver clubs are (so then why are you here?) and gave attitude to the guest line chick, and the bouncer came over and told her to leave. These people are like the World Star Hip-Hop of real life.
So always say please and thank you — and an especial thank you to those who remind us to be better.
Here’s a toast for the douchebags.
What else happened last night?? Oh right, my friend almost gauged my eyeball out and the pain still reverberates in my eye socket today. My girlfriend covered a slice of pizza with an incredible amount of Tabasco sauce and ranch dressing–the point that it was soaked and dripping–it was really. Fucking. Good.
I’m still thinking about it right now.
I think I found my spirit animal.
xx, Butterscotch Waterfall