Cash Strapped (But Perhaps a Goddamned Genius)

So, about last night…

Some of the Aussies that remain, and a few of the American med students that are up from Tel Aviv, decided to go out the Stureplan. I tagged along. It was ridiculous. Sweden parties hard from Wednesday to Sunday and clubs are banging out dance music well into the wee hours.

Now I hate clubs but this was more of a bar that played House music mixed with 90’s R&B and a fair share of classic American hits. So if nothing else it was a karaoke jamboree. Swedes love to audience participate when they dance so it kinda reminded me of Gator City and XS in Gainesville, Florida. Bar with club element.

But, yeah, Stockholm is fucking expensive on the entertainment tip. 60 SEK for a Heineken. That’s raping people without even kissing them.

However, the eye candy in this club — Soap Bar — was worth the shitty beer pricing.

The Aussies got royally pissed drunk and were just hooking up with everybody. Me? Not so much. I was trying to remain in control and actually remember how to get back to the hotel. 4 am rolls around, and everybody is smacked out. I’m the most coherent but we all realize very quickly that we don’t have enough money on the cab fare. Not to mention that our party basically tripled in the bar.

My cash is at the hostel and it’s in USD. I only have 40 SEK on me — along with some coins. But I realize where I am, because I walked this road on the way in from the docks. I say to the group that I can navigate us back to the hostel and that it wouldn’t be more than 15 minutes of walking.

Well, it would have been 15 minutes…

The streets are lined with drunk food places and we have to stop at basically every single one for food. Fine, but a 15 minute journey became 50 minutes. Stop, start. Stop. Start. Stop. Stop. Stop. Start.

Finally we get back to the hostel and everybody is obviously asleep. It becomes very apparent that any canoodling isn’t going to be happening. Then I remember something — I have 3 open beds in my room…

So, in a moment of sheer genius — my room became the greatest nation in the world — contamination.

I tell the lads from Australia, all with girls in tow, that I’ll rent out the beds in my room — just not the bed that I’m sleeping on, and they can do whatever the hell they want.

“Oh yeah?”

Yeah, how about we call it even for 150 SEK a bed and after you are done, you just go back to your rooms to sleep. Deal?

Before I could even get the figure out, 450 SEK in my hand. Lots and lots of SEKs… beautiful sweaty SEKs.

Suddenly I have my budget back for Stockholm and I will not spend over the $100 of my money that I have adhered to throughout the trip. Boom, now I have my train ride to the airport and all is good. Of course, I also have a shitload of American dollars, but that’s irrelevant. I now have an infusion of Australian economic impact.

Best part? Aussies are apparently one0-minute men. I was sleeping in my room within 20 minutes. They were all out of the hostel before I woke up this morning.

AUSSIE!AUSSIE!AUSSIE!! oy!oy!oy! [vey]

 

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