Norway Day 3
No photos today. I took some, but they’re on the camera I can’t transfer from right now, so they’ll have to wait. Fortunately, there’s some stuff to write about. Unfortunately, I’m not feeling particularly creative, so it might be fairly dry.
Work was productive.
After work I walked back to the hotel and dropped off my stuff, then went for a walk down Interesting Street. That’s not what it’s called, but it might as well be.
During my walk, I encountered several aggressive prostitutes who said such subtle things as “do you want to have sex?” In one case, I said “no” and she said “you DON’T???” (I suspect the correct answer is silence, unless you want to have a debate, but I apparently had nothing better to do than argue with a prostitute.) I said something like “well, sure… sex is nice, but I’m going to pass.” I don’t remember what she said next, but she was persistent so I said “I’ll think about it.” She accepted that. It was true, too. I thought about it. I didn’t CONSIDER it… but I thought about the question, and now I’m writing about it. Shaking off prostitutes is kinda fun. I don’t normally get the opportunity to turn down sex with strangers.
I kept walking until I got near a somewhat abandoned looking section of town, and decided to turn back.
On the way back to the hotel, I learned that the going price for a prostitute in Norway is 1000 Kroner. I think that’s just under $200 US. What a bargain. I also passed by a guy who said “Want speed?” By his appearance, I was convinced that he had plenty… unless he’d used it all up. I also noticed a karaoke bar on the way home (Trumpet Karaoke Bar) and found out the karaoke started at 9:00.
When I got back to the hotel, I reported in with my wife. I talked a little with some friends online, then headed to a pizza place that had been highly recommended by several people. It took a really long time to get my pizza, then it took a really long time to get the bill. I took pictures of the candle on the table while I waited. They didn’t turn out particularly well.
After I got out of the pizza place, I headed over to the karaoke bar. On the way, I encountered two more prostitutes. Both of them were even more pushy than the ones I’d encountered earlier. I explained to the first one that my wife would not approve of me sleeping with her. She explained that I would not TELL my wife (DUH!). I explained that I definitely WOULD tell my wife if I were to sleep with a prostitute, and that it would not go over well. She seemed to understand, and asked if I’d just buy her a Coke. I agreed, and we walked over to 7-11 where I did in fact buy her a Coke… then she started the pitch again. I managed to convince her that it wasn’t going to happen, and moved on. Shortly after that, I encountered another prostitute. I was a bit more terse this time, realizing that I could probably spend my whole night being polite to prostitutes. She ALSO suggested that we head over to the 7-11 (I guess that’s a scheme that gets men to change their minds), but I declined. I pointed at the karaoke bar (now in sight) and said “I’m going there.”
I arrived at the steps of the karaoke bar and a very cute young blonde struck up a conversation with me. I sat and talked with her on the steps while she smoked. She asked where I was from. I said I was from America (when people have asked that, I’ve answered US and United States, but got blank stares — America seems to work though). She asked if I was from New York. I explained that I was not, and she proceeded to talk about how tragic 9-11 was. I agreed. We talked about how much religious fanaticism sucks and how Bush isn’t so great, then I went inside while she talked to her sister on the phone. She ended up sitting next to me, and was joined by her sister after a few minutes.
We talked a bit (which was complicated by her accent and the loud music), then I sang People Are Strange by The Doors. People seemed to cheer more than they had for other singers, which made me happy. When I finished my song and sat back down, she said she wanted to go smoke again. I went outside with her, thinking it was probably late enough that I should get going. I showed her pictures of my kids, she showed me a picture of her boyfriend. She demonstrated her knowledge of Greek (she knew a few phrases, including “I’m very pretty” and some profanity), and told me that she visited Texas when she was three, but her only memory of it was that she wanted to seem American so she said “mommy! mommy!” a lot. Her mom bought her a cowboy hat and jacket, which she still has. In kindergarten she wore them to school sometimes, and they made her feel tough. She’s saving them for her own kids, so they can experience the toughness. We talked a little more, then I asked her what time it was. It was almost midnight, so I headed back to the hotel. I don’t remember her name. I’m not entirely sure we even exchanged names.
Oh yeah… while I was talking to my wife, I decided my back was sore enough that I wanted a massage… but after a small amount of googling I came to the conclusion that (in Norway) massage is more or less synonymous with sex. Not terribly surprising.
That’s pretty much how things went today. Now it’s 1:00 AM and I need sleep.