Bad Cologne Day

Feb. 3 - Before I say anything, let me just use the phrase "Super Bowl Champion New England Patriots" in a sentence.

Ah, glorious.

* * *

As anticipated, I drank too much whiskey during the game (which ended at about 4:15 in the morning).

This is a recurring problem for me. I can never drink just the right amount of whiskey and I tend not to err on the side of too little.

I wouldn't normally kick myself for drinking too much during a Super Bowl, except that I woke up with that stale, lingering whiskey smell. I wouldn't normally kick myself for those boozy morning-after emanations, either, except that the DMG and I had a fairly important bit of business to take care of. We had to go to the bank to apply for a 50,000-crown loan.

I'm trying to imagine how an American bank teller would react to a boozy-smelling foreigner who speaks next to no English at all asking for an unsecured loan of about ten-thousand dollars.

I suppose they'd say something witty and sharp, like, "that's an awful lot of beer money!" They'd probably say it real loud, too, the way Americans always ramp up their voices when speaking to foreigners. ("HOW WAS YOUR FLIGHT?")

Anyway, I showered thoroughly, brushed my teeth ferociously, applied liberal amounts of deodorant and cologne, and put on some fresh clothes. The desired result was to look young, fresh, and confident, to radiate a wholesome charm. The actual result was the look of a tired, middle-aged guy.

As for the smell... I think the DMG put it best with what she probably intended to be a confidence-booster. Standing at the bank counter, she turned to me and whispered, "You're okay, now. The whiskey blends in with your cologne, so they'll just think you have bad cologne."

While she and the banker jabbered endlessly about pengene and regler and låner, I tried to look intelligent and focused on breathing through my nose. It was uncomfortable and unpleasant. The best I can say about myself is at least my nose didn't whistle.

In the end the banker explained that because it was the first banking day of the month they were all backed up, so we had to set an appointment for Friday morning. (She was even kind enough to set the appointment prior to the bank's opening hours, since she was already booked for the entire week.)

A second chance! I was no sooner done high-fiving myself than I remembered Thursday is our poker night this week. Can I play poker without sipping whiskey? We'll see.

It's either that or buy some stronger cologne.

* * *

You may be wondering why we were applying for such a large loan. Are we buying a house? A car? A longship? Getting a head start on cribs and strollers?

No. The Danish government requires a 50,000-crown deposit as part of my application for a residence permit. The money will be paid back, with interest, whenever I move back out of the country. The DMG thinks it's sort of a hedge against the possibility of my producing more costs than benefits to the Danish state—sort of like the damage deposits you make on apartments or rental cars.

Fair enough. After all, you never know when some resident alien might inadvertently back Denmark into Sweden, or spill coffee on Copenhagen.

* * *

Just one more time: the world-champion New England Patriots.


Pressing Concerns

About 600 years ago a child was born in the city of Mainz, in what is today Germany. His name was Johannes Gutenberg. He worked as a goldsmith and gem cutter until finally converting a wine press into a printing press. He printed 200 copies of the Bible and gradually went broke. He died 536 years ago today (in 1468).

Lesser known to history is the name of Edgar Weasle-Puck, the Englishman who developed a printing press at around the same time as Gutenberg. Instead of printing Bibles, however, Weasle-Puck ran off 500 copies of "Lewde & Graffical Engravingf of Perfonf Not Wearing Any Clothef." He made a small fortune, changed his name, purchased an Earldom, and moved to southern France, where he spent the rest of his days eagerly awaiting the invention of the lower-case "s."

* * *

On February 3, 1959 Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and The Big Bopper were killed in a plane crash. This devastating tragedy only deepened with the eventual release of "American Pie."

The United States broke diplomatic relations with Germany on February 3, 1917. The Germans were very upset by this and tried to make America jealous by flirting with Mexico. Britain overheard Germany sweet-talking Mexico, however, and told America all about it. The news didn't make America jealous: it made America angry. A few months later the United States declared war on Germany.

Less than two years later, World War I ended with Germany's defeat. This made Germany upset again and they spent the next two decades planning how they'd get even. Eventually this led to World War II, which also ended with Germany's defeat.

Germany remains upset to this day.

* * *

It's Heroes' Day in Mozambique.

Morgan Fairchild turns 54 today. Frank Tarkenton turns 64. They share their birthday with Joey Bishop (1918), James Michener (1907), Norman Rockwell (1894), and Gertrude Stein (1874).

Happy Tuesday!

© 2004, The Moron's Almanac™

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