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Big Willie and the $1,000 pizza
Two Swedes walk into a balloon store...
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Two Swedes walk into a balloon store...
I manage an office at U of M called the Student Organization Resource Center (SORC). We provide a bunch of random services for student groups. It's mostly advertising, but we also have computers, a copy machine, and a thriving balloon decoration business. During the month of August, we see a lot of international students who are arriving for the new semester. The International Center processes about 3,500 international students, and they need copies of passports and visas from each and every one of them. The line is out the door for most of the month of August. Most are Asian, but every once in a while we get someone from Europe.
Two guys came into SORC one afternoon in 2009. Normally I am not at SORC (I'm in my office down the hall), but I was scanning some old photos. I had my back turned but I heard them mention that they were Swedish. This perked my ears up. I said "Hej, jag kan liten svenska," which means "Hi! I speak a little Swedish." They responded, but that was it; I had to ask them to speak English from there on out. It's one thing to learn 2nd grade words in a textbook and be able to painstakingly translate a written sentence or an occasional product label at Ikea; another thing entirely to understand a native, especially a strikingly handsome native. I couldn't focus on what he was saying because all I could see was him on the cover of a romance novel and me draped in his arms with my ample bosom heaving.
One of the student employees helped Sven and Bjorn (just for kicks, let's pretend those are their names) make copies while I chatted them up; I asked what part of Sweden they were from. Their response is irrelevant. They were pretty to look at and they were talking to MMEEEEE.
In his cute little Ingrid Bergman accent, Sven proudly showed me his "Dreams from my Father" book, which was translated to Swedish (Dromer av min far). Swedes love Barack Obama. Oh, the chemistry I had with this boy! Never mind that he's 15 years younger than I am. (The Swedish word for "cougar" is "kuguar," by the way). It's a good thing Derek wasn't there because a side-by-side comparison might have driven me to throw caution to the wind and pounce on Sven like any good cougar would.
There was a lot going on at SORC that day. While Katie helped them make copies and I spoke to them at a volume that was, I'm sure, much too loud (why do we do that?), Kara started to fill a balloon bouquet that was due later in the day.
Observing Kara inflate balloons, they cheered, "Vhat a fun job!"
We chuckled and gave our standard reply: "If all we did was balloons, yeah, it would be the funnest job in the world!"
Bjorn: "Can ve have a sip of helium?"
Sven: "Oh yah, Bjorn, let us have some helium so ve can get tiny voices."
<high pitched giggling>
I told them that was unhealthy and frowned upon by the Safety and Health Administration - so we couldn't allow it - and bid them a fond, drooling adieu, but a few minutes later, they came back. Convinced that Sven was going to ask me to meet at his apartment, make me a dinner of Swedish meatballs, pickled herring, and knackebrod, and read his Barack Obama book by candlelight (him in Swedish, me in English) I turned back around so fast that I nearly pulled a muscle in my neck, saying, "Back so soon!?" But alas, he just wanted some advice. "Ve vant to rent a car; vhere vould you recommend?"
I looked up some info online and drew them a map to the bus stop so they could catch the bus to a good rental place off campus that I use when I need to rent a car.
I asked, "Where are you going? Exploring Ann Arbor? (Would you like my address and a key to my front door?)"
Sven replied: "No, ve need to go to IKEA!!!!"
Oh, so pretty to look at, yes they were....