K-Blog

She was standing at the entrance to the restaurant-kitchen. Blond, pretty-ish, drunk and out-of-bounds; our guests aren't allowed in the kitchen. Tall, hot waiter approaches her from behind, and says (icily): "What can I do for you?" She replies, without turning around "Oh, nothing..." - then turns to find he's hot and changes her mind: "Erhm, I don't know. What *can* you do?"

We were hanging out in the restaurant downstairs; golden light falling through the huge windows. I waiting behind the bar for our guests to arrive. He: "Your Italian is perfect but you speak Danish very well too. It really is incredible." I: "Yeah, well. (?) I am Danish you know." He: "Whaddyamean ? Danish ? So you have...you know...Danish citizenship ?" I: "Yeah, are you kidding? I'm Danish though I spent 15 years in Italy." He: "Oh. Will you marry me ?" I: "Ha, ha. That's good. Heh. But you ought not ask a girl to marry you like this..." He: (grabbing a vase with flowers from the nearest table and going down on one knee) "K, will you marry me ?" I: "Come on - (giggling) - this is.... it's not... come on, get up..." He: "K, will you marry me ? Please ? I need your citizenship...." I blushed in spite of myself.

..."would be lovely to get married. Then I wouldn't have to worry about a thing"... Girl to 3 female friends.