søndag, oktober 23, 2005

The day before yesterday Simon and I went to Copenhagen to watch the movie Broken Flowers starring Bill Murray. It was a good, but the highlight was not the film really. I mean, don't get me wrong, the film had a good plot, setting blah blah...I just had a box of Hot Tamales and Popcorn in my presence and that is not really easy to come by here in Denmark. Moreso, to get a box in a theatre, one must know the exact procedure to follow. Passion never hurt anyone either. Having both of these under my belt I felt up to the challenge. And so the journey begins.

I found that transfering these prized processions into a big city required me to be very wary of its natural habitat. First, I had to find the proper luggage to deliver them in. It had to be a small and warm place, providing the utmost eating conditions. Such quality makes these tiny red tablets moisten and become soft, mouth watering and appetizing. Presented in a large bag where cold air can circulate would produce hard, cold candy that is not enjoyable to the teeth or the taste buds: in other words, I could not trust any purse. After contemplating for what seemed like hours I finally chose a fluorescent green one. I cherished this one considerably. This small, vintage, jewel was given to me by a precious friend of mine, Corissa, having purchased it at a North Dakota thrift store. I knew very well that I would never let this bag at of my sight, but knowing that Hot Tamales were nestled down there in a comfortable eating temperature made me double cautious.

After the Hot Tamales environmental settings were determined it was time to explore another necessary plan of action: How to transport them securely to Copenhagen's Dagmar Theatre. We would bicycle to Koge, board a train and arrive in the city half an hour later. I was really nervous about biking given the delicate situation at hand. "How will I carry them?" I thought to myself. I could not possibly drop my purse into a back pack and throw them over my shoulder. I would risk squishing them against a seat when I sat down or some other unknown force. Nor could I afford them to be placed on my bike's "luggage carrier". No way! That is almost HT murder! I had to make sure they were in my eyesight and arm reach at all times. There could only be one place where these ruby red rhinestones could dwell and that, my friends, is in my front bicycle basket.

It was time to start peddling now. Carefully, my feet went around for the first time. As I started to move a small distance further I became more and more encouraged. I could hear my friends frolicking around in their box, in my purse, in my bike's basket, in front of me. We were so happy. Suddenly, I noticed my husband was staring at me while I rode on. My face must have been beautifully beaming Hot Tamale red because he was observing me a great deal. It was then and there that I knew I had made the right transfer decision. I wanted to scream, "We are gonna be ok! Everything is gonna be fine!" but I didn't want to sound too prideful just in case it all came crashing down before my eyes. Patiently, I kept my eyes ahead and chatted with Simon about the weather.

After an unanticipated peaceful ride into Koge, it was time to board the train. An hour later we were in the city. A strange thing took place between the two towns now that I look back. In Koge I was extremely confident enough to use one hand to carry my purse, but as I reached our final destination things changed. While waiting for a pedestrian light I looked down to notice that not only was I clinching with both hands but my knuckles were white, as well. I was burdened in this unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. Was it because we were so far from home, so far from safety? "It was time to land," I was thinking. "We have waited long enough." Within ten minutes after arriving in Copenhagen we approached the theatre.

I stood in line with Simon for the tickets tapping my feet urgently. We marched over to the popcorn stand and I ordered my popcorn. Without a moment to waste we showed the ticket man our proof and found our seats and began shedding our layers left and right each taking turns to hold my purse. After planting myself snuggly in my seat I opened my beloved, green bag, took out Hot Tamales and with two fingers reached in for the first warm, moist gel baby. "It's okay, you are home now," I said. I looked at Simon who was mysteriously confused, then structured the HT in my palm so it would not accidentally fall out as I gathered the popcorn using the same hand. Upon arrival, I opened my mouth and the rest, my dearly beloved, is history.

I just wanna thank my sponsors Chris and Steve Hamon. Without you two I would never have gotten the opportunity to experience such sweet romance only this rich, hot candy can provide. God Bless you!

For everyone else: it's an easy Christmas present.

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