Greetings from Tallahassee. Tempted though I am to blog about my amazing hotel room (it came with free microwave popcorn and proper desk!) it’s Friday: My Single Male Friend Friday!
This week’s featured bachelor is my friend Ove-from-Norway. When I asked if he’d let me interview him for my blog (which he reads rather religiously despite English being his fourth language) he readily agreed, especially when I told him I’d refer to him as “my hot Norwegian friend.” He suggested, in typical Ove fashion (pronounced “Ooh-vay”), that I make it “my VERY hot Norwegian friend” and even though I don’t generally consider “very” a particularly worthwhile descriptor, I will say that he is indeed VERY hot.
So how did I meet my VERY hot Norwegian friend? Well, obviously I went to Norway. The official excuse for my trip was a UNESCO-sponsored course on ethnochoreology (yes, there is such a thing as ethnochoreology; if you substitute the term “choreology,” which refers to the study of dance, with the more familiar term “musicology,” you’ll find that you now have a vague notion of what I’m talking about and—bonus!— you’ve also got a fabulous new vocabulary word to drop into conversation at your next cocktail party).
The unofficial excuse for my trip to Norway was a Viking recognizance mission. Let’s be honest here: when you’re already relatively tall, and when high heels comprise a more or less permanent fixture in your daily toilette, Scandinavia is the Holy Land of men.
I learned the hard way that most Scandinavians speak fluent English: one of my classmates and I proceeded to carry on an entire conversation about the good looks of the university students we ran into outside of the gym before we realized they could understand every word we said. (We adopted a complicated code comprising mainly of sign language and high school Spanish for the duration of our stay).
Fortunately, the success of Norway’s foreign language initiatives stood me in very good stead when it came to mingling with (and going home with) the locals.
I met Ove at a nightclub in downtown Trondheim. I was, well, otherwise engaged at the time but I spotted him across the room and he spotted me and as soon as my current suitor excused himself to use the restroom, Ove made his move.
He later told me that he thought I was an immigrant from Italy or Greece, and assumed that I didn’t speak English. As such, his “move” consisted of walking up to me, taking my hand, and leading me to the dance floor. Since I was still coming to grips with Norway’s essentially universal bilingualism, I assumed he didn’t speak English so my response to his “move” consisted of dancing (and eventually making out) with him.
Once we realized that we did in fact have a language in common, he invited me to join him for a late dinner. Because I refused to leave the club without my wing woman, however (and because none of us was actually hungry in the first place), we made our way back to his apartment instead.
Unfortunately for those of you hoping to stumble upon a steamy, Norwegian sex scene right about now, I must confess that one night stands aren’t really my thing. I was, however, rather late to class the next morning and Ove and I have kept in touch for nearly two years now.
He’s the youngest of seven kids and despite his Nordic sex-god good looks, his exquisite fashion sense and his rather scandalous sense of humor, he’s still single.
Why? Well, the answer may lie in the alternative title he suggested for this post: my very SINGLE friend.
In his own words, “I’m single ‘cos I’m picky, I have sh*t for luck in the love department and I have commitment issues. What if I find someone I like but meet someone I like better later?” Good point. (Not that Yours Truly has ever wondered about such things…)
Ove says he’s okay being single for now (he’s 33) but he worries about the long term (“No good being a father to a two year old when I’m 78!”)
Unlike most men, he’s completely open about his casual approach to relationships. “There are so many pretty girls out there,” he explains. “I would rather be single having random sex than be committed to someone who I’m not that into. Plus there’s always the chance that she might turn into a b*tch in a few years.” (So yes, ladies, evidently there are plenty of men out there who really do think this way.)
Ove doesn’t hold back when it comes to discussing relationships. I know exactly how many women he’s slept with (at least to the best of his estimation) and exactly how many times he’s been in love (three). My favorite part of our most recent conversation was when he explained how he likes to pick up women:
“If I’m going to a pub, I don’t want to meet girl early, ‘cos then I have 3-4 hours for them to realize that I’m not the one for them. I like to meet them about one hour before closing ‘cos I think I can fill in one hour of bullshit talking before they realize that I might be an idiot.”
Despite his playboy tendencies, he has had his heart broken. (He even admitted that it takes him months to get over someone and that he suspects his commitment phobia is just a defense mechanism. Hmmm… methinks he might be on to something).
Oddly enough, he never really dates, at least not in American sense that he actually invites a girl to dinner and then actually pays for said meal. (I’m not sure if this is a Norwegian thing or just an Ove thing so obviously I’ll need to interview some more of my international single male friends to find out.)
As for Ove’s words of wisdom? Oddly enough they have nothing to do with love or relationships but rather with the subject of interior design.
“Every soccer fan needs a good armchair,” he explains. “And to get a really good one, a man must buy it before he gets a girlfriend because she will definitely use her veto power.”
So there you have it gentlemen: substitute “soccer” for football, furnish your man cave before you’ve got a girlfriend and you should be all set.
Ove’s advice to women is much simpler: “Smile. A girl smiling is very charming. And try to be in a good mood because there are so many silicone blondes out there who think they’re so hot… and they’re not.”
So there you have it: confessions of my VERY hot, VERY single Norwegian friend. I’m trying to convince Ove that he might have better luck in the love department if he were to actually take a woman out to dinner once in a while but who knows—I’m not exactly one to talk when it comes to building an actual relationship.
(PS: If you haven’t already, check out my new column over at City’s Best: Philadelphia and please leave a comment! You’ll find a few further details concerning my date at Fork on Monday but there have been several developments since… I promise to explain first thing Saturday morning!)