When me and Jack went to Oslo

Detta halvfärdiga inlägg skrev jag för ett år sedan, när jag och Jack precis hade blivit tillsammans, men publicerade aldrig för att jag tyckte att min engelska var för dålig. Men äsch, vem fan bryr sig. 
We stayed 24 floors above Oslo, for less than our parking spot 25 levels down. We were those people we hate while at work; those who show up for breakfast just before closing time and those who ask all the obvious questions without listening to the answers.
We got there later than planned, because of both of our's unability to follow road directions and becaue of Jack's very ambitios road trip snack shopping and because of that good hour of the morning I spent trying to get Fanny's oversnowed car out of the parking lot. Might have been less time-requiring if I'd thought of releasing the handbrake. But. We did make it in time for the trip's main reason.
Daniel Norgren happened that Monday night, in an Oslo theatre among people with turtlenecks and well groomed beards. We had red wine and seats in the balcony section, to the left. And he was good. Fuck, he was good. It was like waking up from a trance when it was over, way too soon after it had begun.
 
Then we had dinner in an actual restaurant, got some actual food. Got drunk and eventually got home, in the minus-degreed Norwegian capital. Fell asleep 24 floors above it.
The Oslo below us was cold and snowy, when we woke up the following morning. After severely having overdosed breakfast we found out exactly how cold. And exactly how expensive. We tried some thrift shopping but found that all price tags had one digit too much, and that the price of one oat latte was equivalent to that of eleven Trysil staff coffees.
 
But it was a very decent oat latte.
We went to an art's museum as well, for some reason. There, we tried to distinguish the actual art from light switches and such, which was quite a task considering one of the things labelled "art" was a drain. But at least they, also, had nice coffee.
We finished off with pizzas, in a shabby restaurant where Jack as usual ordered as much food as any normal person would eat in a week. 
 Jag blir pirrig i magen av att läsa.