Memorable

It is fun and weird to think about what kind of memories from completely random things you have. So much happens during a lifetime. So many situations, surprises, confrontations, emotions. So little you can recall. So often things you remember from the past are small. Some of them are insignificant, irrelevant, some of them are the best things you can remember. How the stairs in your Danish house looked like when you were 3 or 4 years old. What kind of thud did the closing garage door make at your cousin's. The tickliness of lying in a freshly harvested rye field. The anxiety of tracing the lower lip of your love with your index finger for the first time. The feeling of energy when you controlled the ball for the first time with your brand new soccer boots.

Some of them make you smile, some of them make you sad. Some of them make you miss something, some of them make you look hazily into the horizon.

Some of them are just plain silly.

Last night I had probably one of those. Something I'll randomly remember in the future and won't quite know how to feel about it. It was a fun night out, and I was jumping between two tables and two different groups of friends. At one point I noticed that most of the people I knew had already left, but instead I found myself surrounded by a bunch of slightly familiar, and definately attractive, Icelandic ladies.

Now now, if I only look at the setting itself, I think I've been in worse situations. Way worse. They were of the politics people, running for the student council. More or less drunk, usually more. I was introducing myself to a couple who I hadn't seen before, kept telling that my name is not Samuel or Salmon (I laughed), answering questions about how long I've been in Iceland, complimenting everyone about how great English they speak, answering the same question again about how long I've stayed here so far, reminding them of my name, and so on and on. Nevertheless I was having good time, enjoying myself.

Then one of them threw up on me. When I say "on me" I don't mean "next to me."

No advance warnings, no questions asked, and she didn't look like she was most drunk of the company. I thought it was must've been because she was starting to figure out my personality, not because of intoxication.

Awkwardness ensued. Moreso when an unfortunate bartender bloke saw me and the floor, and winced. He looked like he thought I vomited on myself. Wham bam thank you m'am, game set and match. I wished I could dissolve. Still, things like these happen. I hope she got home fine, at least her friend assured me that they'll take care of it. I'm not angry, I rarely am. I'm just confident that this is one of the silly random memories. 15 years later I might be working on some kind of a cubicle and find myself daydreaming a little. Besides idealistic wishes for a little better tomorrow and the sound of a closing garage door will be a moment of extreme awkwardness at an Icelandic bar.

I may be too embarrassed to go there again.