It’s funny what gets you back into blogging after a pathetically wrong lapse.
Today, as I descended to the S-train platform at Nørreport, I noticed a homeless guy in an amusingly bizarre position. Smack in the middle of all the action and inches from the edge of the platform, he’d laid himself down, crossed his feet at the ankles, and gone to sleep. Out of his pocket stuck a bag of opened candy, and pieces had dropped out, creating a colorful display around his drab body. I shifted my newly-bought tulips into my other hand and started my new book. Minutes later, he was up, encouraged by a good samaritan to get himself out of the way.
First, he picked the candy off the floor and ate it. And then he decided that he’d be the first man in Copenhagen to pay me a compliment. He stumbled over to me and slurred (in Danish) “Hi, beautiful. Have a great day, beautiful.”
And then he was off. And I felt surprisingly pleased.
My Russian friends’ first reaction to Copenhagen was that it made them feel ugly. Not because the women are gorgeous, but because the men never look at them. Forget compliments! What is so much a part of Southern European and Eastern European cultures seems seriously taboo here.
Except for the drunk and homeless. Today, in my eyes, they rose above the other men with the ability to make a woman feel like she stands out and has what it takes to turn a head. Even if it’s a drunk head that was just resting on platform pavement, it’s better than nothing.
Filed under: Copenhagen
