Why I Love Swedish Awkwardness And Bus Stops.

I'm going to start this one off with an anecdote which isn't really an anecdote but since I say it is, it is.

Something hilarious happened the other day, as I was waiting for the bus which would take me to Girlfriend's place. Or, well, it didn't exactly "happen" all by itself. I kind of made it happen. Either way, that isn't the important part. The important part is the hilarity and awkwardness of the situation.

As I approached the bus stop, I saw a lone man standing there. Okay, fine, there are other people who take buses at night, nothing odd with that; and some of them look kind of, but not quite, like Argus Filch. As I approached Filch-Man, he eyed me nervously, as if in fear I would do... stuff; he then proceeded to actively not acknowledge my existence. Not only is this silly because I'm completely harmless, but I also looked kind of, but not quite, like Benedict Cumberbatch.

Rather strapping haircut, I daresay.

To fully appreciate what happened next, one must delve further into the mind of a Swedish person.

This is a meme which has circulated here in Swede-land for a while now; a row of Swedes waiting for the bus in June (yeah, we totally have snow in June. What about it?), all maintaining their comfort zone by standing as far as fucking humanly possible from any other human who might be nearby.

Swedes are, beyond anything else, scared of embarrassment and will go to great extents to avoid even an inkling of awkwardness or any unwanted attention, i.e., all attention.

This manifests in fairly apparent ways. When we stand in line, we stand silent and rigid and wait for our turn. Not that we would be stopped should we ever attempt to cut in line; we're simply too scared of doing that, since we're all silently and secretly terrified of judgement. When we wait for the bus, we stand 4 feet away from all other life forms (at least), and stay as silent as we can - being careful not to breathe heavily, as that would definitely make everyone judge us silently. We attentively eye each other to make sure the other one isn't judging us at a distance, suavely diverting our gaze every time we notice that they notice they're being watched and, in turn, judged. Even reacting ever so slightly to someone breaking this cardinal rule of Swedishery is socially forbidden as it, in itself, attracts attention.

All Swedes are socially awkward penguins.

Now, back to the tale of the other night. As I stood Swedishly next to Filch-Man, he cowered away a bit. Nothing special there, I suppose. No one likes standing close to strangers. 

 I'm totally Benedict Cumberbatch.

I was rather hyperactive at the time, having eaten an entire cube of fudge(!), so I rolling on the balls of my feet, doing miniature bounces and generally looked like an ADHD squirrel, albeit without tail. As I was doing this, I accidentally took a step right, closer to Filch-Man. He took a step away. 

"This is odd..."

I was more than a bit perplexed at the sudden turn of events. How could he acknowledge me like that? How dared he? 

He just broke a cardinal rule of Swediquette. By acknowledging my intrusion into his zone of Zen, he made the situation more awkward. I knew innately that I had to push him. How far would he push this pseudo-Swedishness?

I approached him again, far more decisively.

I was yelling "Yippee ki yay, motherfucker" on the inside.

This not only made him take a panic-stricken gasp of air as the status quo he had earlier disturbed was  entirely demolished, but it also forced him out of the bus shelter entirely. I was victorious.

As to further mark my utter victory, I decided to push him even further. This is something I never would've done if I wasn't in Sweden, but seeing as I was, I feared no retaliation. I had spent the last couple of minutes slowly breaking down his psyche, he had no will power left to continue our duel. 

I decided to randomly extend my arm.

The ensuing confusion and turmoil inside poor Filch-Man's head was indescribable.

"Why would the guy who looks slightly, but not quite, like Benedict Cumberbatch do this?!"

I saw he wanted to hurt me. I felt the tension. Yet again he slightly panicked at the horrendous breach of protocol. But, no matter how annoying I was being, he was Swedish. What he did, almost instinctively, was to step back, away from my arm, to maintain his little air-bubble - his comfort zone. he followed this up by stepping away from the bus shelter entirely, under the false pretences of a phone call. I knew it was fake. 

The bus arrived soon after, and after I had taken a seat at the front of the bus, he proceeded in seating himself at the very back, with the semi-drunk teens and possible drug addicts.

God I love bus stops.