I wonder if his name is Albert Ross?
I forgot the kicker. The obnoxious, talkative drunk (see previous post) was very friendly, but clueless. He assumed Van and I are brothers, and kept offering to show us the best places in town to "get pussy". On the flight I didn't think it worth setting him straight, as it were. So the flight ends, and we say goodbye to him and think nothing more of it. But when we get to the train station to get the train into town, guess who we see waiting on the platform? Yep. So we duck into a different car to give him the slip. When we get to Central Station, we take a taxi to our hotel. As we are standing at the desk waiting to check in, guess who comes stumbling down the stairs? Yep, right again. If we keep running into him all weekend, I think we'll have to have "The Talk" with him, before he tries to drag us on a tour of all the pick-up bars in Copenhagen.