Why do you live in a cave?
Although the entertainment value of this entry will almost certainly
fall into the "you had to be there" category, I feel the need to write
it down, if only because the critical question became our catch phrase
for the remainder of our time together.
This was during the barbeque Mikael, Fredrik and I had on Thursday night, after the Swedish family had joined us (and, come to think of it, Vanessa and Ruth were there as well). This was actually the very model of the modern Swedish family, as the wife, Paeivi (Finnish, actually) had a 14-ish year old daughter by her previous husband, and the husband, Stefan, had a 12-ish year old son by his previous wife, and according to Mikael, this is quite normal these days. Actually, come to think of it, it's pretty normal in the post-Brady Bunch US, as well.
Anyway, we were still having a rollicking good time at around 3 or 4 in the morning (or "3 or 4 a.m. in the morning", as too many people say), when out of the corner of our ears we hear a "sshht!". I think there was a brief pause in the conversation as we tried to figure out if we had heard things right, but we picked things back up when nothing immediately obvious manifested itself. At which point we heard the "sshht!" again, and Paeivi went over to investigate. Turns out that next to the barbeque pit, set back a bit, there was a basement apartment / hotel room, and the guy living there wanted us to be quiet. But Paeivi had seemingly never seen the like of a basement room, and exclaimed "Why, this man is living in a cave! Why do you live in a cave?" To which the poor schlub replied "I don't live in a cave. I just want to sleep!" This exchange was the source of much merriment among Mikael, Fredrik and I, and was good for a laugh at any point during our subsequent days together.
This was during the barbeque Mikael, Fredrik and I had on Thursday night, after the Swedish family had joined us (and, come to think of it, Vanessa and Ruth were there as well). This was actually the very model of the modern Swedish family, as the wife, Paeivi (Finnish, actually) had a 14-ish year old daughter by her previous husband, and the husband, Stefan, had a 12-ish year old son by his previous wife, and according to Mikael, this is quite normal these days. Actually, come to think of it, it's pretty normal in the post-Brady Bunch US, as well.
Anyway, we were still having a rollicking good time at around 3 or 4 in the morning (or "3 or 4 a.m. in the morning", as too many people say), when out of the corner of our ears we hear a "sshht!". I think there was a brief pause in the conversation as we tried to figure out if we had heard things right, but we picked things back up when nothing immediately obvious manifested itself. At which point we heard the "sshht!" again, and Paeivi went over to investigate. Turns out that next to the barbeque pit, set back a bit, there was a basement apartment / hotel room, and the guy living there wanted us to be quiet. But Paeivi had seemingly never seen the like of a basement room, and exclaimed "Why, this man is living in a cave! Why do you live in a cave?" To which the poor schlub replied "I don't live in a cave. I just want to sleep!" This exchange was the source of much merriment among Mikael, Fredrik and I, and was good for a laugh at any point during our subsequent days together.