someone several rows up evidently didn’t want the prepackaged cinnamon roll that must have come with the in-flight meal i didn’t order, so i snagged that baby, left alone in her seat, on my way out, free calories YEAH and on that note you guys it’s possible that i’m about to lose a lot of weight without wanting to per se
took my inaugural european poop by skylight in a room that is also itself a shower stall. the airbnb host purports by profile to speak english and hindi (no danish, i guess), and we haven’t met but i believe him. i took a fitful nap on sheets that smelled like maybe they hadn’t been prewashed for me per se but who cares?? it’s inevitably cleaner by volume than the airliner seat that was my last place of rest and fully reclined, too. whoever’s room it usually is is a smoker, i’m sure, and reads books with titles like FINANCE FOR NON-FINANCIAL MANAGERS. later i wandered the brickyard and took this photograph of a mirror in some ivy under a window from which spilled music i once was regularly acquainted with, back when i almost had an indian mother in law.
My absentee host Deepak is quite responsive via text but I am otherwise, on reflection, unsatisfied. The most unforgivable thing — the thing least forgivable! — is the point, moments ago, at which the toilet paper ran out, with no replacement stock in evidence anywhere. I mean, that’s not great as a conflict between flatmates, even, but to put a paying guest in that situation isn’t okay. Now I guess there is an onus to be a white lady on the internet, or find something else at which to point my entrenched entitlement and discontent.
I have heard back from my buddy from January here, a stellar human who promised then that heʼd keep the joint I left him so we could share it “when inevitably youʼre back”
So now I walk to Goodlife Cafe on Søllerørgade, where he may be found, taking note along the way of how I can eat for the absolute cheapest on this timescale
