More travelling

Whenever I am in Stockholm, I like to exercise my masochistic side; I visit my friend Miss K. As I am an extremely boring person with boring life and boring job, I am the total opposite of Miss K. She is something from a Kundera novel; she is a photographer living an exciting life with lots of erotic adventures with her young, younger, youngest lovers. I can’t even pick up a hundred years old blind guy, what’s wrong with me (you are too fat, my mom would say)?

Knowing that I would need some comfort after spending an evening hearing about her latest conquests , I had decided to bring Vronski along to Stockholm (yes, I guess my sex toy is the closest I ever get having a lover). And folks, now I don’t need my sex toy expert of a friend to tell me how she convinces the airport security that her sex toy isn’t a bomb, now I know how to do it myself.

I thought I would just die of shame but the situation turned out to be very amusing as the security officer got very embarrassed. The lady checking the monitor told the security guy to investigate the suspicious object in my luggage closer; the poor guy was all red on his face, he was stuttering like the French count from my younger days and his hands were shaking like a sky scraper during a 11,5 Richter scale earth quake. He excused that he had to investigate the object-you-know-what-I-mean (this is exactly the words he used) so to complete his embarrassment I said:” Well, I am from Finland. It is a huge country with a small population so a girl might have to walk hundreds of miles without meeting a guy. Therefore it is always good to have the object-you-know-what-I-mean handy, don’t you think?”


(I am still not brave enough to bring a picture of my sex toy so you get Fred March as Vronski instead. I have never seen the film though, I don't think even GG can live up to the book.)