Bring on the Night

So. I better reveal the result of my contribution to the German magazine. All talk doesn’t do it.

After being asked to write something, I initially sat down and wrote a bloody book. Too long, but I kinda liked it. I also had to admit that it was too much for a column. So after talking further to the editor of the magazine, I was informed that 1500 letters would be suitable. So I did a word-count in Word, and found that I hit round 1500. It was just not letters, but words. Back to the drawing board.

At first I was convinced that I couldn’t shorten my story down, but I gave it a try. It ended up being “only” ca. 1800 letters instead. So I sent it to the editor, and they accepted. I never even sent the long version to them, since I was convinced they wouldn’t buy it.

More strange was that they also accepted the picture I attached. They initially asked for a portrait picture, of which I have none usable. So I picked one where I pose kinda odd. I found it fitting for my writing, but what do I know? You tell me

I also attached a picture taken from inside the shop which is mentioned in my story. They used that one too. So I actually had it my way, even though they only wanted the shorter story in the end.

I like the longer version best myself. Even Kojak agreed and he normally always blames me for rambling too much and too long essay-style entries.

Anyway, on to the real deal. I have included the 3 parts of my entry here. Enjoy..

The long original version (which I personally found the best):

I’m a difficult person

I was sitting on a dinner table chair in the middle of our living room. My wife was cutting my hair with a trimmer. My wife had just told me that I was a very difficult person. A difficult person? Me?

See, I was wriggling in my chair and really wanted to leave. My wife believes in perfection and use a long time to do a proper job. I, on the other hand, believe in blood circulation and asked her for the seventh time if I could go soon. The chair was uncomfortable, and I almost couldn’t feel my butt anymore. A few minutes and some surgical adjustments later I was set free, and thought about what she said.

Am I a difficult person? Well, thinking back on the whole day and my person in general, I had to conclude that it was not entirely untrue. I’m a difficult person indeed. I never though of myself that way before.

We have been married for about 1½ year. We still learn about each other every day. There are good and bad things. I guess the misses have had her few surprises once in a while, just like she gave me a few the other way around.

One thing I think she didn’t quite anticipate from the start is that I can be a somewhat grumpy and whiney person. If I get annoyed about something, I need to get it out of my system here and now. Usually I moan, whine and comment what annoys me. Secretly I expect a pat on the back and a “Yes dear – you’re right as always”, but today it didn’t happen.

It’s not like I flash my discontent in the open. Being from North-Jutland I am genetically programmed to be polite, I never say it out loud. I do make sure my wife hears me of course. What is a show without an audience?

I recently found a pressure valve in writing, but it’s not always you can do it when you are on the move. For example this day when my wife had dragged me to Aalborg’s biggest shopping mall. By Danish standards it’s a huge complex with a big grocery store called Bilka. Next to it and interconnected is a maze of smaller shops. It attracts people from all of Aalborg and the surrounding area. I like the range of goods there, but I really don’t like the idea of going there.

I wouldn’t say that I hate strangers, but I sure don’t like too many of them crammed together at a time. For example shopping malls don’t really do it for me. I sense trouble. If you ask me if I want to go to one and do some shopping, I initially find the thought interesting. All the nice goods on sale get me in a good mood. It should be possible to do make some great deals.

I prepare mentally and get set to go, but on my way there, my mood slowly changes. Small things start getting to me. The people on the bus, the traffic, the green mile as I walk from the bus to the mall. Everything is just slowly starting to get too crowded and out of my control. In theory it is best gradually to being lulled into a new scene, but it’s the quite opposite in my case.

I don’t mind many people. I am not claustrophobic at all. I’ve attended a concert where I was so squeezed by people I could lift my legs without falling to the ground. And I mean that literally! It was not a problem for me. What gets to me about shopping malls is how other participants in the great shopping hell seem to ignore anything else but the goods. All laws for logic are set on halt.

I’m an egoist, and who isn’t if they search deep down inside themselves, but that doesn’t stop me from being a considerate shopper and an attentive trolley driver. I wish I weren’t. I wish I was one of the other 99% who forget everything they learned in kindergarten driving school. You know the time when they pushed their make-believe car around and had to look to the sides before they turned. They also forgot how it would be wise not to stop in the middle of the street. In shopping malls there are no traffic rules, but there really should be. I would love to see crew assigned to traffic control and I would even allow them a sidearm. You know: “Just in case”. What I really hate about malls and grocery stores is that there is little or no consideration for your fellow shopper. It’s like its last day on earth and everyone’s final task is to buy groceries no matter at what cost.

I’m too polite really. That’s my problem. Well, besides the obvious problem that I am a grumpy bastard who gets annoyed by the smallest things of course. When I go shopping I tend to make sure I don’t block the streets inside the mall with my trolley. I always look over my shoulder to make sure I am not in the way for others as I stride forward through the meat pile of shoppers.

It is said that good guys always finish last. It is true inside a shopping mall. I consider myself one of the good guys and I always wait patiently until there is enough room for me to take the goods I need. I always get my goods last and ends up annoyed in the act. Other shoppers scarcely avoid cutting the hamstring of a fellow shopper as they crash their trolley towards the freezer. What’s a lost hamstring compared to getting one of the 400 remaining boxes of pork chops on sale? All tricks are allowed in love and war and well, shopping.

During what seemed like a decade in the mall, I started noticing the other men there.

At a gigantic freezer I saw a saw an older married couple. The wife was bent over a freezer section and reaching for some frozen chickens. The husband was chained to the trolley like the rest of us. Guarding it while our drones were searching the neighborhood for the best offers. He sighed and said: “Do we really need 10 now?”. The wife didn’t answer and kept stuffing chickens in the trolley. Actually that was her answer. I watched the man’s face. He looked worn. He’d done this before and he knew he just had to suck it up. Then I looked at his eyes. There was no life. I wanted to give him a hug, buy him a beer and say “It’s all right I’ve been there too it’s all right”.

Lets face it. Men and women shop differently. Men go directly for the things they need, while women make sure everything is checked out. If you look it up, I am sure you will find that a woman invented the word “shopping”.

In my own case I had to wait while my wife opened each and every box of plates we decided to buy. She refused to buy anything unless it is in absolute top quality. If it was me, I would just take the boxes and cross my fingers everything was all right. If not, then I would take it from there.

Before that scene, the misses had used 10 minutes to decide which cheese cutter was the best. She finally chooses the one I found after a quick glance at the price and quality. It took me 1 minute to find it, and 9 minutes to convince her it was the cheapest and best at the same time. Dare I say that now that I’ve tried it, it is absolute crap, and that we should have gone with one of the others?

Having finished grocery shopping, I asked my wife if we should stroll down through the rest of the mall. It was a polite question and not really an offer. You know how you sometimes say something because it is expected of you. I didn’t want to go. I just wanted to make my way to the bus and head for home. I immediately regretted asking but it was all too late.

My wife started raping all the clothes and shoes shops. Her first hit was a bags shop. We need neither bags, shoes or clothes. Well, we do, but these things we already decided to buy on our coming trip to China. I took a deep breath. It was my own fault. In the end, she bought nothing. I should be happy on my credit card’s part, but I wasn’t. An extra unnecessary and fruitless walk indeed.

After a long day of my constant whining about “too many people” and “other people not seeing where they were going”, I guess the misses finally had enough of me when she cut my hair later that day. At least she told me politely and with a smile on her face. Even though my cry for blood circulation in my butt was well justified at the time, it was just the drop that made the bowl flood over. All day she’d had to endure my grumpy look.

I’m sorry honey. I am a difficult person and I am truly sorry you have to hear me whine all the time. I’m like a kettle that just needs to let off some steam not to explode. I get tired of it too. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed inside malls, grocery stores and similar? Maybe I am not cut out for shopping. Oh well, maybe I’m just an average man.

The shorter adapted version:

I’m a difficult person

My wife was cutting my hair with a trimmer. She had just told me that I was a very difficult person. A difficult person Me?

I was wriggling in my chair. I wanted to leave. My wife believes in perfection and use a generous amount of time to do a proper job. I, on the other hand, believe in blood circulation and asked her if I could go for the seventh time. The chair was uncomfortable, and I almost couldn’t feel my butt anymore. I started pondering over what she said.

Am I a difficult person? It’s not entirely untrue. I can be quite a difficult person indeed.

We’ve been married for about 1½ years now and we are still learning about each other. This day my wife just learned what a grumpy and whiney person I can be. Usually I moan and comment on what annoys me. Secretly I hope for a pat on the back and a: “There – there”, but today it didn’t happen.

I don’t flash my discontent in the open. Being from North-Jutland I am genetically programmed to be polite. I do make sure my wife hears me, however. What is a show without an audience?

One thing that really bugs me is shopping malls and grocery stores. That was exactly were we’ve been that day. Aalborg’s biggest shopping mall consisting of a one big grocery store called Bilka, interconnected with a maze of smaller shops. I like the goods there, but I don’t like the idea of going there. I sense trouble.

When I chauffeur my trolley inside shopping malls I make sure I don’t block the streets inside the mall. I always look over my shoulder to make sure I am not in the way for other shoppers. I feel that 99% of all other shoppers don’t.

I’m too polite really. That’s my problem. It is said that good guys always finish last. It is true inside a shopping mall. I always wait for my turn. Other shoppers scarcely avoid cutting a hamstring of a fellow shopper as they crash their trolley towards the freezer. Apparently all tricks are allowed in love and war and well, shopping.

That’s the same kind of whine my wife had to endure that whole day.

I’m sorry honey. I am a difficult person. I’m a kettle that just needs to let off some steam or I’ll explode. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed inside malls and grocery stores? Maybe I am just not cut out for shopping. Oh well, maybe I’m just a man.

The final result ready for print in the German Magazine (Warning! it’s in German): Click this I put it in jpg, so I could edit my family name away.

Tags: blogging, column, man vs woman, shopping, writing