on Shoes, Fear and the Very Bad Man

let's get to the crux of the matter. 

i think i know,why, perhaps it is that i have  issues about.....

shoes and ......

swedes.

and it may really have to do with the story of the Very Bad Man-with braces on his teeth......

you see, a mere half a year ago-we were -evicted-in the dead of winter-here in Sweden-over -shoes-( and a few other things).

It began ,when Darling Hubbie and I moved to Goteborg only in December to begin or life of Wedded Bliss together. We came upon a lovely little pad,located in a "lovely" little section of town on the top floor of the home of a man -with apparently very deep  shoe-(and other assorted)-..... issues.

This man was,at best, an odd one. Excessively tall( why "excessively"? because vengeance runs deep and I still intend to take his sorry ass down to just "Tall" -someday), 

very typically Swedish looking - the blond hair , the blue eyes crap-

middle aged - and, not surprisingly- we came to learn-DIVORCED (not that that is a major strike against you at this age- especially in this country)- but we came to know WHY-

and-

with a SOLID ROW of the biggest ugliest BRACES across his teeth- the kinds we wore in the US in the 70's before "modern braces" were invented. I bet he wore a headgear at night ,too.

To try to describe the type of Swedish Man that in his 40's is going to be wearing BRACES on his teeth-in the hopes of becoming the Swedish likes of George Clooney -in his head- is to describe a very bizarre, twisted  and affected individual of gynormous proportions...

this was our first landlord here -and on every level,  he was-indeed-a Very Bad Man( hereinafter referred to as the VBM exclusively).

....and the VBM did- as you might suspect- very EVIL things. 

....sending Passive Agressive e-mails at bizarre hours of the night, was one of the things that he not only excelled at but obviously -(because even Wacko's deseve a bit of fun in life)-relished in the most. Direct Confrontation and False Accusation were other activites that VBM enjoyed-(but hey- everyone has to have a life ,right)? 

VBM was unscrupulous. VBM complained about-everythiing.

During our very short 4 month time there the VBM tortured,haunted and harrassed us , made us hate our own home and did everything he could to derail an otherwise blissful first year of Wedded Life for hubbie and I-as he sat downstairs alone -waiting ( as we all were) -for his "girlfriend" to decide to come visit him, so he could get laid and improve his garrolous, conniving, vindictive, evil, Silas Marner existence in his very big very Most Horribly Decorated House.)

He complained that I was not quiet enough at 10:20 on a Friday evening lugging a 25 kg bag of samples up a steep stairwell. He complained about mysterious tobacco products thrown evily and purposefully onto his balcony. He complained of odd noises at odd times. And VBM requested you shower only after 8 and before 10 in the evening      ( not to us, but to the prior tennats that went running from him-leaving us to deal with him.)

 

Now to see the Hubbie and I is to easily assume at least a few things - we are not the types to be Very Bad Tenants- or even the types to be doing what we know we were doing between the hours of 7:05 and 7:25 on the night of December 23rd,2008 at Ja#*gatan 3 in Goteborg, Sweden,very often....

this all goes as background info for a very Sad Christmas Tale that has manifested itself into a bizarre combination of Fear, Loathing and Shoes in my brain.

Now see upon arrival to our first Luv Lagenheter together- we had to sign with this VBM , a Behavior Contract .

The day of the signing, music levels were discussed along with the usual things-"behaving as if we were mice " in the stairwell after 10 p.m. and before 8 a.m.-  was the terminology ascribed to the method of traversing in the common stairwell in this house during "quiet time."

During the signing,tests on music levels were run.Music was played at different volumes so that we could "come to understand" acceptable levels in the house. 

I eagerly promised him that I would try to restrict the times that I rocked my happy ass off to "Back in Black" at Incredibly High Volumes would be done only when we could clearly see he was not at home.

(but, I 'm thinkin' that that didi not get me any "brownie points"....)

then  there came the subject of ....the shoes.....

"NO shoes".

"What?"

"No shoes."

" No shoes?!"

"No shoes. NOT at all."

I reminded him that he wasn't just dealing with anyone here- that he was dealing with a ( big fancy) fashion designer from New York City, nonetheless,-(okay so you need to dramatize things a bit from time to time for effect in this life).....and I told him how it would RUN my outfits.

- this apparently did little to shake VBM 's resolve. 

"No shoes."

hmmmm...( with sense of desparation ...)-I tried another tactic.

"Mister,it's the Dead of Winter- (which it was)-- and I have clinically  documented circulation problems  and my feet will freeze." ( I envisioned toe amputation by febraury, and inflected some of that into my voice.)

This surprisingly provoked at least some thought- and he produced after a fairly long hunt - a pair of felted wool slippers of his - the kinds with the rubber-y black soles- that WOULD be ACCEPTABLE -if, and mind you IF necessary.....

My nude color suede bottomed ballet exercise slippers were retrieved and countered with. 

(deseprately  thinking that somehow I could make these work with my outfits....)

They failed. 

It was the rubber soled felted woolies -or nothing. 

We demured to His Rules of Conduct Contract-having lost the War -but won a small battle.and at great expense -which I would have glady spent on something meaningful-we purchased me some rightfully cute-ly ,hidious numbers for the soles of my circulation challenged feet-

-a pair of GREEN, LEAF DECORATED, FELTED WOOL SLIPPERS with the required RUBBER BOTTOMS on them.

I labeled them my "Fucking Fairy Faggot Slippers".( hereinafter termed the FFFS)

On the night before Xmas - (that's the 23rd around here and not the 24th- which is actually da Big Day Christmas in this country) - the VBM gave us his version of a Christmas Cozy Welcoming Gift to our home.

We had been out shopping all day- to get gifts for the loved ones in our family and I was gaily-in all good Christmas Jovialty  and Seasonal Merriment - sitting there in my FFFS -having managed to coordinate them with some semi-seasonal outfit for the evening-gaily wrapping away under the tree.....

.....when low and behold, Roy, glancing through his e-mails, espied a message that had just been sent to him from the VBM -written- natch!-in Swedish.( VBM despised speaking in Engelska- if only to piss me off and cut me out as we had already discovered- a few "altercations" into our 3 weeks with him at the time.)

Roughly translated it went like this:

"I would ask politely that you tell your wife to quit wearing shoes in the house . I have detected her wearing shoes in the house this evening between klockan 19:05-19:25 ( that's 7:05 and 7:25 in the evening to the rest of us),-This has happened before ,need I remind you ( wha da f@(*#!?!?! ) -and if I have to ask you again  to tell your wife to quit wearing shoes in the house , I will have to consider - eviction.Mvh- the VBM"

Now, I need not explain this very far. But my Holiday Mood certainly plummeted - immediately-straight to the depths of hell. 

after several other bizarre confrontations - oh about 1 a week on average ,about this, that and the other- 

THIS was TOO much- basically right there smack dab on the (swedish) Christmas Eve.

We realized then we were living on top of a Psycho and a- Very Bad Man.

You see, we knew very well what we had been doing between 7:05 and 7:25 that evening. I can assure you that it was not an activity that required any walking- at all. Remember - this  was our LUV Lagenheter - and we were newlyweds....filled with Christmas spirit..... Never you mind. You figure it out.

Screeching of the likes of a Banshee Raised Around Quite a Number of Loud Mexicans and Texans-( which was indeed the case)-commenced. Swearing of which I have always had quite the flair for, if I do say so myself, reached Epic Proportions and volumes that I made quite sure that VBM heard in the depths of his SOLES in his  Very Quiet Lonely Pathetically Grotesquely Decorated Pad down below.

(we checked. No, Girlfriends' Car was not out front and it was obvious that this contrived e-mail was the only HOHOHO he was getting that night.)

Depression descended on the little happy newleywed couple and I put my Screaming and Yelling and General Piss-off-idness in my merry little Christmas Bag along with the Christmas presents the next morning and schlepped it all the way to the "Family Compound" in "Lislik" ( to disguise the name of the actual location of my "swedish family" to protect them.....)

And I pulled these  New Toys out a plenty- like  shiny happy Xmas presents for each single member of the family -one by one- and in group, to also revel in.

My Holiday was ruined...... and the only thing that shook me from the Gloom of the VBM, was the rousing conversation about how long the family was going to pay for the upkeep on my dear Mother-in-Law's  grave when she passed to the great Northern Lights in the Sky (  but MAN is that!- a whole other post.)

We returned back after the Holiday to the house of the VBM, and I proceeded to stomp around in my FFFS non-stop - as loudly as I could for several more months-( there was no rule about heaviness of step-you see) and  had the joy of many more altercations with the VB,Very Evil Man  - until -thankfully-

we received the Blessed Eviction from the VBM- in duplicate-one for each of us- ( even a VBM can be generous at times) registered mail- to be retrieved in the Dark Dead of Winter via a 15 minute walk to the store by the Husband of the Very Bad Hip.

It damaged me-and my attitude about shoes- I quite fear- for life.

BUT- it got us to here- where -believe it or not-I am quite happy. At our new Lagenheter -we have a blissfully normal landlord. He and his lovely wife have as of right now 2 and 3/4 children. One of them wakes up with a screech that shakes the house promptly at 8:15 every morning and then runs and stomps happily all over the place. I smile at the kid every time I see him, because if for no other reason-He's the one that  lets me wear my shoes here without guilt.

Still there are days and times that my husband -(he too,recall, being a swede- is a lover of the peaceful happy quiet HEMLIV that only barefeet can produce)- still comes running to me with this wide eyed exppression and horror and chastises me for being too loud in the stairwell with my shoes on.....I know he fears we'll get evicted from here,too......

And our new Awfully Nice Guy landlord comes to us and apologizes to us incase they are too loud. 

Of course, I reply," Not at all!( "Scream away, Little Man, scream away!)"

but now you see- that this shoe thing runs deep- and because of a Very Bad, Very Swedish, Very Evil Man with Ugly Braces on an even Uglier Mug, I am damaged-for life.

I suppose I should see a shrink- but- THAT's a WHOLE other posting, too.....

Lesson for the SOLE: Vengeance is Deep, sayeth the Lord. And someday,on some level- i'm -still-going to get mine in nice passive-aggressive way that only the VBM can appreciate.

Swedish Words for the Day: 

mycket dålig hemskt ful man med  tandställning- that's: the VERY BAD UGLY HORRIBLE MAN WITH BRACES-

mig och min sårade anda för skor- that's-ME and MY WOUNDED SPIRIT FOR SHOES- .

and , to the vengeance that i spoke of earlier- 

someday, at the very least,in the dead of depest darkest snow-y winter, ( maybe for Xmas?)- I'm sending the Fucking Fairy Faggot Slippers back to VBM- registered mail- so he has to go down to the store to get them- and ponder indeed on his Very Bad, Very Evil ways.....

- and that's the least of what i want to do. and  I think with a bit of therapy- i might just get there-someday.....