So let's discuss day 4.
We already discussed how I woke up today, my bunk mate was getting recruited by an extremist terrorist organization via good sex and uppers. That's actually a fairly solid strategy. There isn't a lot I wouldn't do for good sex and free drugs. BUT I DIGRESS.
I went to a football game today.
I had my fifth Wok of the trip, napped on the couch until 5 and then walked the two miles to the stadium. I arrived and got a ticket for half price off of some Danish bro who was trying to sell his dad's comp tickets. I got cheap admission, he gets beer money. Everybody wins.
This is where shit went a little off the rails. I noticed almost immediately that I was catching some dirty looks from the people around me. I didn't particularly know why. I was alone, I wasn't wearing anything particularly offensive (plum sweater and black sweat pants) and I was just minding my own business.
I bought a beer that came with a lid for some unknown reason (more on that later!) found my seat and proceeded to cheer for the home team.
Within minutes, I was being pelted with lids, which the rowdier fans frisbee at the people they don't like.
FC Copenhagen takes an early 2-0 lead and I cheer and smile, look for high fives...
Nothing.
Just lids.
Is it really that obvious that I'm an American?
Do people actually hate Americans that much?
Anytime the opposing team does something well, there are leering cheers hurled at me in a language I don't understand. I'm starting to feel quite sad, my hostel friends are gone and everyone at a Danish soccer match has decided to hate me.
When the visitors finally DID score a goal to bring the score to 2-1, a 5 year old boy walked up to me and punched me square in the dick.
"What the fuck?!?"
His older brother and all of his friends stopped laughing and looked at me very seriously...
"You are...American?"
"Yes I'm a fucking American, why is your brother punching me in the cock?"
"You are wearing purple..."
"What does that mean, do you think I'm gay or something?"
He points to the visitors and I feel like an idiot. They are wearing dark purple jerseys. They mistake me for the enemy.
"You look Danish kind of and we thought you were being a dick by sitting in our section."
"No man, I live in LA. I'm just here to watch the game."
"And you are rooting for Copenhagen?"
"Ya!"
He mutters something to his friends that do not speak English. Then one of them cups his hand to address the crowd.
"HE IS NOT FOR MIDTJYLLAND! HE IS AMERICAN, THE SWEATER IS COINCIDENCE."
One old man in the back yells back.
"han er for kobenhavn?"
I address the crowd.
"HAN ER FOR KOBENHAVN!!!!"
There is rapturous applause. My penis is no longer assaulted and the entire second half 18 year old high school Danish kids bring me beers and ask me about America.
"Do you know George Clooney?"
"No, but I saw Kevin Spacey in a bar once. He was flirting with a dude."
AHHHHHH HOUSE OF CARDS, GIVE AMERICAN A BEER!
The Carlsbergs are sold in 5 packs at Copenhagen's stadium. Every time someone would go to concessions they would be sure to designate one of their 5 for me.
The game became fairly close in the second half with Copenhagen finally pulling it out 5-3.
"Come out with us American, we don't have school tomorrow!"
One of them even offered up his mom's basement. There was a long moment when I considered hitting the town with a bunch of high school seniors who had the day off tomorrow. I imagined sitting in a basement playing beer pong with the 'cool girls' of Copenhagen High.
I would probably hook up with one of them because I was a novelty. And it would be a hell of a story.
But then I remembered that all these kids were born in 1998. I had kissed a girl by 1998, I had seen 6 Michael Jordan titles by 1998.
I mean it's only a 3 year violation of half your age plus seven...
No. I'm going home to get a good night's sleep before Sweden. I am going to read my book.
It's only midnight. I have Anders' what'sApp info.
Maybe I'll send him a text...just to check in,
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