How did we ever end up there? It all started about a month ago when A forwarded an email from his boss. To be honest I didn’t read it, all I read was A’s p.s. “free beer and food, you in?” And of course I said yes. I didn’t even finish reading the p.s. when I responded. I should have though…
Last Friday A told me that he received a confirmation from the embassy and that I should forward him mine, so he could print it out, little did I know I had to sign up for it first, which, if I would have read the p.s. entirely I would have known and done. Needless to say, I didn’t know and didn’t do. So after realizing my mistake A went online but I didn’t get a confirmation, no all I got was… The waitinglist. A was already debating whether or not he should cancel, since he didn’t want to go by himself but before we knew it, three days later, I received a ‘claim your spot now’-email and so I did.
Wednesday came around and I told A I’d pick him up from work after my class (mainly just so I could have a cup of delicious creamy hot chocolate, A always brags about it and usually all I get is a huuuuge craving). All day I was looking forward to that and thank god, I got there early because I finished two cups in no time.
Afterwards A and I decided to slowly head over to the embassy which on the map looked super close, but by foot wasn’t all that close. Also it helps having the right address… After wandering around for some time and deciding that we shouldn’t try to walk into someone’s house, although the (wrong) address clearly stated that we were at our point of destination, we finally found the place (the Polish flag gave it away). We walked in and were greeted by a 4-person committee. We hung up our jackets while people stared at us wide eyed. Yes, my name is on the list, look, riiiight here. Yes, thank you, next time I’ll bring my own list…
After those few awkward moments we entered a tiny room, white walls, green paintings, some old chairs, some old people and some people pretending to read the itinerary. A and I immediately lowered our voices and tried to remain friendly and calm, all we wanted to do, was grab a glass of wine (drinks were already put out, ready for everyone to grab what ever they desired) and get some food. But, of course, not yet…!
We awaited the big speech… Actually I was waiting to be led into a bigger room with seating options for everyone. No, not here. People remained in the exact same places they put themselves upon their arrival. You know, standing leisurely around, hands in the pockets, looking serious and trying to look as if they were making mental notes. The embassador clapped his hands and started his speech with some ‘funny’ jokes. Everyone was friendly enough to laugh and then he went on and on, I didn’t really pay a lot of attention to his 45 page speech, but I waited for him to say the words I’d been dying to hear: “Please get a drink and help yourself to the buffet”. Which eventually, he did.
A and I, eager to get to the good stuff made our way to the wine bar and then it happened. Lord Douchey McDouchelord placed himself in front of us and tried to seem interested in us, which in fact he wasn’t. He went on and on about how awesome he was, and how busy and how great and how what not, he asked if we were in the Polish society club, which we’re not and then he asked how we got there, didn’t realize we signed up for an inquisition… finally he realized our disinterest in him and let us go. Needless to say we ate everything we could get our hands on which for A meant roast beef and fish and for me meant desserts. After several glasses of wine and several plates of delicious goodies we decided to leave, it wasn’t like we wanted to stay for the good company…
Being outside we caught a bus, which ran over some nails, which meant we were stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Was that the payback for not saying goodbye to Douchelord? We then decided to just walk, good lord, we’re in Oslo after all, it’s not like we’re in central park… And somehow, we found the subway and went home…
Next time though, I’ll read the email…
A bird loves a fish 