Thursday, March 19, 2009

Something is Hoppin' in the State of Denmark

Something is Hoppin’ in the State of Denmark
By Andrew Ian Lipstein

note: submitted to Last Word, should be printed on Tuesday

I’m currently abroad. In the state of Denmark, in Copenhagen. Yes, that Copenhagen.

One of the best parts of Copenhagen is the never ending nightlife. Never ending isn’t a figure of speech. You see old men drinking 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Whether it’s a Carlsberg or a Cult Shaker (an alcoholic Red Bull), they are just drinking, staring into space, living the dream.

But what is the night nightlife like? Breathtaking. Everything I dreamed it to be. And I’m going to help you experience it right along with me, every step of the way.

So, I took my pad and paper and catalogued this past weekend, in Copenhagen, the city of herring and Hans Christian Andersen.

Friday Night
9:30 – Finished my meal of liverpaste (self-explanatory) and brunette child parts (why do you think there are only blondes?). I arrange to meet my Danish friends to pregame. This consists of drinking what the Danes call ‘’liquid cocaine,’’ because it’s seltzer water mixed with powder cocaine. I make sure to keep my pinky out when I’m downing the liquid. Any other way is frowned upon.

9:34 – I can’t feel my face and start to vomit profusely. I may or may not have seen god.

8:02, in the morning – I wake up in Copenhagen Hospital. Thank god for universal healthcare. They had to pump my stomach three times and replace the blood in my body, but I’m just happy to be alive.

Saturday Night
9:30, at night – Finally released from the hospital. Finished my meal of herringpaste (self-explanatory) and non-beautiful child parts (why do you think all Danes are beautiful?). I arrange to meet my Danish friends to pregame. This consists of me saying ‘’nej tak,’’ or ‘’no thank you’’ to their offers of ‘’liquid cocaine.’’ I feel so American turning down this offer, but I lost twenty pounds worth of vomit and replaced blood, so tonight I’m going to take it easy.

10:30 – We get to the club, it’s called ‘’Wienørlæxxx’’ or ‘’Luck of the Wiener,’’ in Danish. It’s also a pun in Danish because of some H.C. Andersen fairy tale, I don’t know. Apparently this is where Hans himself took his first Jager Bomb (and his last, if you know what I mean, ha!). So. The club was pretty good, but I’m not really feeling it because it’s literally just us and about ten Turkish men drinking Cult Shakers and staring into space. I tell me friends I want to check out some other clubs. They tell me to chill till 11:30, when all Danes hit up the clubs. I’m a little doubtful, but I wait it out. They also tell me to go up to the bartender and order something called a ‘’Little Mermaid.’’ They promise me it has no powdered cocaine. I’m in. It kind of tastes like Christianade, but sweeter.

11:30, and five Little Mermaid’ s later – I can’t really see straight and the club is still empty but as the clock strikes 11:30, literally sixty blonde Danes walk in the room and start licking my ankles. For some reason I think of Josh Mikutis. We start dancing and my moves are so crisp that three of them become pregnant. My moves are fresh and they’ve never seen anything like it. My hips are tiny dancers, moving to their own beats.

11:45 – The club is now packed. One of my friends gets it out that I’m American and before I know it, the whole club is talking to me and awaiting every syllable that leaves my mouth. Everything I say is golden. I ask what time it is and someone says ‘’23:45’’ to which I reply ‘’don’t you mean, 11:45?’’ and they eat it up. Everybody is in hysterics, rubbing my knees, flicking my earlobes and licking my ankles more. The entire club may or may not be under the influence of ecstasy.

3:35 – Everyone is still surrounding me, asking questions. Normally I would be tired at this point but I’m thriving off of the energy. ‘’Do you know Shaquille O’Neal?’’ one asks. I say I don’t and they love it. They fucking love it. All of a sudden someone brings out a basketball hoop and asks me to dunk. I’m nervous because I’m 5’9’’ but then I realize the hoop is quite small. Because Danes are so tall it is considered impressive to dunk on a hoop as short as possible. Their regulation hoop is 6 feet high. I do windmills, 360s and backhanded dunks. They cheer and laugh and giggle. The queen is apparently there. And she is impressed. She offers a congratulatory shot of liquid cocaine. I politely decline. The entire crowd becomes quiet. This is apparently not only an insult to the queen but the whole state of Denmark. I feel terrible so I down the liquid cocaine.

9:17 – I wake up in Copenhagen Hospital. I definitely saw god last night.


  1. hi andrew, i would really like to see your left hip dancing to to electronica while the right one bops to some kanye. at the same time.