Besides what I’m going to write about in the next paragraph, I had a really fun time tonight. Though the music was constant trance, it wasn’t terrible and I met some fun people to dance with all night. It’s nearly 5am now and I just got home…but this needs to be written about because I hate dumb people.

So, Anna, me, and two guys we met that we staying in our apartment complex were getting ready to walk the long trek back when this random guy comes up to be and starts having a fit about why he can’t come in the club. He’s obviously drunk, but I try to tell him that you could have gone in when it was open from 11 to 1 or so, but it’s 4am and they have to close off. He continues to rant WAY too close in my personal bubble until I step away. Then he goes “HEY. What’s your name?” “Uh…I don’t know you.” “Hah…no really. Your name is “I don’t know you,” honey? What’s your real name, honey?” “Ugh. Do not call me honey. What the hell?” “Oh, you know I’m just bein’ friendly and since I don’t know your name, fucker, I’m calling you honey. Honey is a family thing where I’m from. I call all my guy friends honey! But since you don’t like that, I’ll call you fucker.” “Well then you can fuck off!” “Where are you from?” “Washington.” “Ohhh America! Me too! I’m from LA.* Blah blah blah. Give me a hug, honey?” “NO. Get away and stop calling me that. I’m not your honey.” “Well, I’m not a feminist.” “Hah…so you think men are better than women? Okay bye…” “No, honey. I respect women.” “If you respected me you’d stop calling me that.” “Well now you’re all just being racist! I’m trying to explain that we use honey as an nice name where I’m from and sdoifjsdhksghkjfhgksjghk.” “Hah yeah…I’m being racist because, you know, we’re all white here!” “You’re being mean, honey. Give me a hug.” **

Basically, Anna and one of the guys, Magnus, intervened toward the end and we tried to get him to shut up. But I just told Anna and Magnus to just speak Swedish and turned my back on the guy and he left. What the hell, right?! Ugh. He was such a drunk asshole. I’ve encountered more jerks in Sweden than I ever did back home…maybe it’s because I’m out later. Who knows. Doesn’t make it any better.

*Note: He sounded Spanish or Italian.

** I hope the order of this conversation is right…close enough that I covered all the bases and this made sense. I think I cut some stuff out but whatever.