Writing

Weird people

Some years ago, when punks were big, there was a punk festival here in Aarhus. These punks had taken over the forecourt of Huset, a multi-activity building, that is now defunct. They played loud music Saturday afternoon and night, and in the morning there were a number of them around town, looking fearsome in their preferred raggedy black clothes and weird coloured and styled hair, all pretty monstrous. You could be scared of them. I had a couple of encounters with these monsters Saturday morning, a bright sunny day. The first was at the railway station, where I found myself on a collision course with a girl monster - will she shoulder into me? As we got closer, we both deviated from our paths and she gave me a beautiful friendly smile. Hmm. Later, two girl monsters were walking along in town, bright green and orange hair. As they passed me, one of them turned to the other and with great joy said "Isn't it lovely sunshine!" (Danes are very happy to see the sun occasionally).

Sunday morning I happened to go past that forecourt, where a punk bloke was cleaning up, all by himself, a big job, as there were great heaps of beer bottles and other garbage. He had his work cut out. I said to him "Have they left you alone with it?" He must have misunderstood me, and he said, almost primly "Well, that was the deal, that we'd clean up afterwards!". Of course.

Nice weird people.