after the show

She sat near the front and when You looked at her, she was the only one who gave your look back. Unafraid. Or mocking maybe? You thought with a look like that she would come up to you after. Would say she liked the gig or maybe just liked what you wore or, maybe she’s too cool for that. She’d probably be more the kind to just come over and say *hey*

But she did not come over after. She was now deep in conversation on the other side of the bar. You were stuck in a corner signing autographs on books and napkins and cards. It always struck you as funny that anyone would want an autograph of anyone, let alone yours.

Who were you talking to? Oh yes, that guy, the aspiring poet. He really wanted to tell you one of his poems right now. He had hinted at it several times, he said his work was dark, sad, and Was that ok? Yes that was ok. His poems were short, he almost, he kind of, he could almost just tell you one right now (in Danish?, in German? In Polish?)

He was Russian/German/Polish, a student, ridiculously young. Barely nineteen, barely. A little intense. You did not want to hear his sad dark poem. No now. Maybe not ever. You’d had enough poetry for the day. You left the venue with the other performers.

-----------

The bar we ended up in played nothing but 90s indie music... for hours. I had enjoyed this in the beginning, but in the last hour it had gotten old.

To make matters worse, they were now out of wine. Beer was the only real reason people came here. Beer here was cheap. But I hate beer, so I ordered a cuba libre instead.

How much was that?

70 Kroner.

What!!? Are you serious? Here?! That’s way too much.We#re going.

What?!

Quick, get your stuff. Now!

I cast a quick glance at the bar. As we ran off, my guilt was laced with adolescent pleasure.

We make our way through the masses of drunken teenagers. We are winding along Jomfru Ane Gade, this infamous street of so many terrible looking bars.

So what do you say in Copenhagen about people who are from here?

We talk about all the seagulls they have…And maybe about them being not very sophisticated

The seagulls?

The people...

And what do people here say about people from Copenhagen?

Probably that we are all latte drinking metrosexuals

Aren’t you?...

My eyes turn skyward, to the sea of white wings filling the air.

There are a lot of seagulls

When I was younger I dated a girl from here. I told myself when we talked on the phone, that if the seagulls were ever quiet it would mean she was cheating on me.

Based on?

It was just my theory

And?

One day I spoke to her on the phone, I couldn’t hear any seagulls

And?

I found out she had been cheating on me.

Fuck...you were right.

We were now on a mission to find something to eat . It was proving difficult. Even the the kebab shops were closed. We walked in endless circles, until we had to choose between starving or or… had it really come to that?

We walk by the golden arches and pause.

I can’t,

No me neither.

We walk to the burger king and linger

It’s the only other option

I guess its slightly better than mcdonalds?

In the line I count my change.

67 kroners exactly!!!

I have the exact amount for a meal. We are both thrilled about this. Small change has never been so exciting.

Someone in front of us turns and asks where we are from. They assume my friend is also a foreigner. This is the casualty of speaking English.

I mumble that I am from England. I don’t feel like having the where I’m from conversation. When asked where he is from he says

Ghana

The dane who has asked him is noticably perplexed. The answer is not going well with his drunkenness.

Gh... ?

Its in west Africa…What…? You think there are no white people in Africa?

Um,, no. no I guess um….So she is from England and you are from Ghana

My friend nods.

You would think it is the other way round.

He shrugs

You have a good football team

Thank you

But what's up with all the tight shirts you wear

I’m sorry?

On your team

What?

Do you like Denmark. Do you... Do you like it here?

I’m not sure. Maybe not. Is everyone like you here?

Our new acquaintance turns to me

People from Ghana are very difficult aren’t they?

I’ve always gotten on with them.

I say.

My friend smiles. Our meals are called out. We collect them and walk off.

By now it was sunrise.