Updated: Jan 26
I am sitting in Cultivate at 11am on a very rainy but unseasonably warm Saturday in January 2020, post Zumba……and post medible that was slightly stronger than I had planned.
It is crowded and there aren’t many places to sit where I can plug my computer in. Problems to solve.
There is a bench seat but the table seems to be reserved for a ‘Scandavian Language Group’ that I didn’t see when I was getting set up.
Two twenty somethings notice me noticing the sign and they say ‘We don’t need the whole table. It will probably just be us.’
How generous! And I stay here at the bench table and eat the toast and drink the coffee and start some lists of shit to do and make a little plan.
Then all the voices around me are an entertaining *cacophony. How neat to hear all these cheerful conversations when the world is also kinda going straight to hell? That’s terrific. Look at us little resilient humans trooping along!
The background music in the shop seems really old AND really new. Like if you were watching a sci fi show and the future space marines walked into a bar, this is the music they would be playing in that scene where the young cadet screams ‘How many others have to die before you’ll forgive me DAD?!!!’ and everyone lowers their weapons solemnly and then you notice the music and think ‘What the fuck is this music?’
It’s that music.
Like techno seventies but slow with less bush and more machinery. Or BOTH!
And the guys next to me are speaking…..well…..'Scandanavian'….I guess(?) and I haven’t spent much time listening to that accent and it is kinda wonderful but also wayyyyy too much right now because for a minute I forget that they are actually speaking another language and start to believe that I just can’t understand English anymore.
And then I was like ‘Oh! I’m just really high. Okiedoke. Yep. Checks out. Enhanced senses. Keen awareness of emotions and subtleties. Super happy…..blah blah blah.’
One of the language practicers at my table is beautiful. They have thick curly reddish brown hair that hangs just below the shoulders. Roundish glasses, classic looking. Fair skin. Very expressive face. Slim. Androgynous. Could be a handsome prince, a cute young lady, an elf, or a thinly disguised alien depending on the background music and the outfit. The look works no matter what context I put them in. This person would make a good wizard even.
A small town wizard. Of course!
The truth is ‘I DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT SCANDANAVIA!!!!’
I think for a while there I thought it was a furniture store. I know that is just so terrible. I guess my main impression is that Scandanavians are mostly white people that stay out of wars. Is that close? Are there wizards there? I bet there are. Wait-Don’t they have good weed there?! Oh! It’s the same as Norway and Finland and all that! Yes!
Still something about furniture though.
*Another word for ‘cacophony’ is ‘katzenjammer’ which is such a satisfying and fantastic word, which I think could also be a convincing name for a waterlog ride in a northern Michigan waterpark if it isn’t already.