If you have never been to Copenhagen, I swear you should go. It is a truly wonderful city by the sea. The inhabitants are hospitable, fun loving and to a surprisingly abundant degree, exceptionally good looking.
The legend says that centuries ago, Vikings kidnapped the most beautiful women during their conquering visits to Europe, and deposited them back in Scandinavia to raise their offspring, resulting in the tendency for tall, blonde, healthy and attractive generations to follow.
It is not hard to believe the myth when you spend time in Copenhagen. The ratio of stunning women and men that pass you on the street is far higher than I have found elsewhere in Europe. In addition, the Danes are active, health-conscious folk, so the many beautiful ones tend to be slender and well-toned to boot.
I lived in Copenhagen for a year. It was the third year of my PhD in Scandinavian Literature. I was the boarder in a family house not far from the central square. It was an old, rambling, white townhouse inhabited by Mr and Mrs Phillman and their daughter Sylvia.
With just the one child and the house's high maintenance cost, the Phillman's rented a spare bedroom out to students from the city university, to bring in some extra income. I had contacted the university and arranged a special rate with the Phillmans to occupy the room for a year.
It felt very much like living with a family. The Phillmans were warm, generous people and their daughter Sylvia was an intelligent, world-wise 19 year old. In addition she was gorgeous. I mean eye-poppingly gorgeous. Tall and slim with blonde hair and sea-blue eyes, she had a beautiful face and body, a tiny round backside and perfectly rounded young breasts.
I developed the most impossible crush on Sylvia within a week of my arrival, but was careful never to let it be known, though my feelings cooled somewhat over the subsequent months. They came back with a vengeance however, one night a few weeks before I was due to leave.
Mr and Mrs Phillman were out of town for some reason and Sylvia and I had the big old house to ourselves for a few days. On the night before they were due to return, Sylvia invited me to Tivoli Park for the evening with some of her friends. Tivoli is a fantastic place - part gardens, part open-air theatre, part roller-coaster amusement-park - it caters for anyone and everyone in Copenhagen on summer nights. It had become a regular haunt for me over the previous months.
I met Sylvia and her three friends at the turnstile to the park just as the sun was going down. I knew two of the friends, Maria and Lise, pretty well, having spent time with them and Sylvia before. The third girl, Anna, I had met only once previously. We were all very close in age. Anna, being the youngest at 18; Lise being the oldest at 21. All the girls were attractive but in no way vain or conceited about it; it was after all pretty commonplace for girls and guys to be attractive in Denmark. They didn't figure they were anything special.
We spent the evening riding a couple of the roller coasters, watching a band play, and drinking black cider in one of the bars. Sylvia became more "girlie" in the company of her friends. They would tease me about something and squeal with laughter. I would flirt back and laugh with them about whatever it was. Usually it would be one of them affectionately mocking the fact I didn't have a girlfriend.
We had a fun evening and, when the park closed, we slowly made our way back to the house. The three girls were having a sleep-over in Sylvia's room and, once they were all dressed and ready for bed, Maria asked me to join them in the room for a bedtime chat.
When I entered Sylvia's room I found them all sitting on the floor amid a veritable mess of pillows and bed linen, dressed in the most adorable nightwear. They each wore a pair of pyjama bottoms, and a vest or t-shirt on top. I sat down and joined them in the cosy looking circle and we messed around and laughed for a while. It was a boost to my ego to be sat alongside so much scantily pyjama-covered flesh. Soon the conversation came to them ribbing me again about being single.
"There must be some girls you see in Denmark that you like" Maria said. She was clutching a pillow to her lap.
I smiled and looked at the cracked pink nail-varnish on her lovely bare toes. "There are lots of girls I like", I replied, "but I'm going back to America soon, aren't I?"
Sylvia laughed. "Yes, in like four weeks!" she retorted, "You could meet a hundred different girls in four weeks!".
"I think he's shy", Lise said with a grin. The others agreed. It wasn't the first time they had levelled the allegation. They began to tease me again and Sylvia playfully bashed my arm with a pillow.
"Anyway...", I eventually said, tired but still smiling, "...I'm going to hit the sack". I got up to leave and said goodnight to the girls. They each gave me a hug or kiss on the cheek and watched me leave the room.
I went to the bathroom, had a shower and cleaned my teeth, and then got into my bed. I turned out the bedside light and listened in the darkness. I could hear the low voices of the girls, from across the hall. They were giggling and full of energy. It was difficult to make out what they were saying but I could hear that some of their sentences were deliberately whispered.
Suddenly I heard one of them shriek "John! John!", in a panicked voice. I leapt out of bed, wearing just a pair of briefs and bounded across the hall into Sylvia's bedroom. The light was still on.
"What's wrong", I asked, my whole body poised to fight an intruder.
The girls were laying in a huddle next to one another on the floor. I saw their eyes focus on my semi-naked state of dress. They looked admiringly but began to giggle.
"We missed you" Maria replied, with exaggerated histrionics that set the other girls laughing again.
"What?"
"We missed you and wanted to say goodnight again", she continued. The others voiced their heartfelt agreement with this statement, still sniggering. It was a silly prank but they were drunk and it was rather flattering so I simply rolled my eyes and said goodnight to them each again before returning to my room.
I must have been in bed for about ten more minutes when I heard a voice, which I recognized to be Maria's calling me again: "John! John!"
I put my dressing gown on this time and returned to the room.
"Yes?"
"We just wanted to say sorry for disturbing you before". Maria was the spokesperson, but they all found this hilarious.