The hunt

I’m not much for shopping. It’s not something that tickles me in the way that it seems to tickle most women. I don’t experience any sort of sexual pleasure from it. I know nothing of fashion and I quite prefer it that way. Only when it’s absolutely necessary – as in, when I haven’t bought any new clothes for, say, four years – will I even consider going on a shopping trip to town. But today was different. A female associate of mine somehow managed to pressure me into going to town with her to buy new clothes for me. Her reasoning was that I ‘look like a homeless person’. I don’t know about that. I’d like to think my look is avant-garde. Anyway.

Me and Malin are walking in town. She spots an interesting store, utters a short ‘o’-sound and scurries off inside with me walking five feet behind. Malin is walking around, carefully examinating each fabric by letting her soft hands glide over them, like general Maximus gently lets his hands stroke the high grass. I immediately scan my surroundings for the armchair. Where is the armchair? I find the armchair and park myself on it. Fiddle with my phone. Read old messages. Send a new one. Look at the floor. Look at the ceiling. Recite the 30 first numbers of pi over and over and over. Then suddenly Malin is standing before me, proudly showing off a dress she found in the deepest corner of the store and asks ‘What do you think?’. I really don’t know what I think of it. She has a, let’s say ‘interesting’ taste in clothing. I can’t quite decide if it’s high fashion or crap. It is beyond my understanding of fashion; something that just isn’t for me to grasp. ‘Yeah, it’s nice’ I answer. She runs off to the counter to pay for it and then we’re back on the streets.

Malin discovers yet another interesting store, utters a short ‘o’-sound and right there and then it begins anew. The hunt for the armchair. This process goes on to repeat itself five or six times before I decide to call it a day and start heading back home, with considerably less items purchased than Malin. Read more on this article...

Look For The Woman

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Meeting with Joakim

It's always interesting going to a meeting together with my friend Joakim, who is involved in a politically active group for teenagers in our community. There we are, 11 people in a room, trying to come up with good ideas. Someone's showing a PowerPoint presentation and the rest of us are sitting and nodding and scratching our chins. And Jocke is sitting and nodding and scratching too, but suddenly he gets an SMS. His phone goes 'beep-beep' and instantly he is lost. He dives on his phone, quick like a teenager he is, and then he sits there and smiles and shakes his head at something that I can only guess must be amusing, and he starts to answer it. He types on his phone with an incredible speed. Fingers flying over the buttons. Eyes glowing with such intensity. It's an impressive sight.

All the while the meeting is flowing forward, but Jocke isn't quite aware of it. He is lost for a moment. Then he presses 'send', smiles and shakes his head one last time and catches up with the meeting again. Nods and scratches his chin. Humms and comes with a sensible point. Until the next SMS arrives and he is yet again lost. Read more on this article...

Great Expectations

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