Stockholm is one big snowstorm and the bus is late as usual. It is more the rule than the exception to the otherwise fantastic bus 153, which makes me one of the few Locals who can go directly from home to work without a single change, is late. Sometimes it is almost like it wants to tease when it's someone a hundred metres away but still within line of sight, without ever seem to have as a plan to approach the bus stop.
It is when nervousness arises, not that I'll be late for the job but for any of the other waiting people will start talking to me. To chat about how the bus is late is something I have done everything to avoid since I'm in the middle of the night at Danderyd hospital tried to seem socially competent.
– the bus Will sometime, hehe?
for a guy who seemed to be waiting for the same delayed bus. He took out the earphones, said “huh?“, and I was ashamed, something incredible that I even tried låtsats know how to carry herself among strangers.
now, When I stand there and huttrar I realize, however, that one of the best things about Stockholm is that I actually need not worry to talk with someone; the worst social snedsteget you can do is to try to talk with a stranger in the morning rush hour.
Just a few days later, I was told to have talked with a friend on the subway early in the morning, and days after asking a man to me to lower the volume even more on my already relatively quiet headphones. Just as it should be.
Hugo Ewald is faktaredaktör on Today's News and the world's worst kallpratare.