The Art of Making Friends (Written 04/05/2007)

Here are my two latest attempts to make friends in this city:

Monday one week ago, 12.45:
I am sitting at the internet café I am always at due to French companies that screw you over when you order internet deals to your home. (We ordered CLUB INTERNET, which is a package with internet, phone and television, two and a half months ago and it still hasn't come).

Anyway, I am sitting minding my own job hunting business when I just happen to look over at the screen next to me. It's an email written in Swedish. The person who uses that computer is a girl who looks like she could become my friend. I nearly talk to her but then I think that I might scare here away. Therefore I come up with the plan of a genius. I call my sister and talk to her for a bit in Swedish, hoping that this will make the girl say "Hey! You're Swedish, so am I. Do you want to be friends?". When I hang up, I am very smug and sure she will fall right into my trap.

But the girl pretends to not even notice me. This puts me in a very difficult position since she now knows that I am Swedish but I am not supposed to know that she is. Before I start wondering why she ignores me, I tell myself to be brave, lean back in the chair and let out a big sigh. I do just that and look around in the room. When I look at her screen, I say, very casually, "Sorry, couldn't help noticing that you're on a Swedish web page there". The girl turns to me and looks terrified. I continue to blabber about myself, why I am here and that job hunting sucks. Then I ask her what she is doing here. She is visiting her sister who studies here. "Oh", I say, "Then you must have alot of free time during the day. Do you want to get a coffee sometime?" She is now literally leaning as far away from me as she possibly can. She smiles and says "sure", turns off her session and gets up. I say "wait, I haven't given you my number yet!" She smiles again and takes the little paper on which I have scribbled my number. "OK, maybe I'll see you around," she tells me while exiting the door. I almost yell after her: "You know, I have some time right now if you're free!! Or later on in the day, or any time this week!!" Now she doesn't even smile but just runs out the door.

Yesterday 17.30:
I have decided to go to a book club. A couple of weeks ago I was in en English bookshop when I saw that their book club was going to discuss a book I just read that my friend J. recommended. It was The Handmaid's Tale and I was very excited about this opportunity. I love this book and discussing things is a great way to meet new friends. Exciting friends who have chosen to discuss such a fantastic book! I go there with butterflies in my stomach, imagining my new life with great people at dinner parties, picknicks in parks with rosé wine and long hours in cafés. I enter the book shop and look around. Two old ladies, well, old and old, between sixty and sixtyfive, are sitting at a table. I tell the girl at the cash register, who was my age by the way, that I am here for the book club. She points to the table and says "Have a seat". I look at the old ladies and introduce myself. Sit down next to one of them. Then I think to myself that they are probably just here to listen to all us young people discussing in English. Other people start arriving. The table fill up and after a couple of minutes there are about 15 of us. When the woman who had chosen the book starts the discussion with "I chose this book because it got me thinking about how we have forgotten how bad past times were. When I got married in 1958...", I think to myself that I should stop judging people because of their age. I might have loads in common with these people. I just wonder how late my dinner parties will go to with an average age of 65?