Scan Magazine | Humour | Columns
IS IT JUST ME…
By Mette Lisby
… who has been wondering whether Airbnb is all it’s made out to be? My husband and I travel a lot for work, so for the past few years, we have Airbnb’d our way around the world. Excited at first: no more impersonal hotel rooms. We would be living in other people’s homes! How charming! Eight out of ten times though, we have arrived to a messy home, clean but with stuff everywhere. There is a difference between two fancy magazines casually spread out on a coffee table and a whirlwind of books, papers and weeklies scattered around on every open surface. Decoration and mess are two very different things. Cupboards in the bathroom have no room for your stuff, because they are filled to the brim already with other people’s stuff - the charm of living in other people’s home! Recently, we were even welcomed into the home by the owner himself. He was super nice, showed us around the flat, which was surprisingly un-messy and really cosy too, with lots of plants and flowers. And he had a
couple of goldfish! Kind of sweet, right? But he was worried about who was going to look after them while he was away. You see where this is going? To cut a long story short, we ended up responsible for watering at least 18 pots and plants plus feeding and changing the water of two goldfish. We are nice people, what where we going to say? Who wants to be the d*** who refuses to look after a goldfish? What possible excuse could there be? Then, as a side note, he explained that he and his girlfriend had not had time to clear out any shelves in their wardrobe, so if we did not mind just keeping our clothes in our suitcases? And also, the floors were new, so if we did not mind taking our shoes off before entering the apartment? And who wants to be the d*** that ruins other people’s floors? So we spent the week sneaking around in socks, afraid of making marks on the floor, particularly careful when watering
Making friends Working from home can be a bit lonely, especially if, like me, you have moved to a city where you don’t know anyone. Deciding to be more proactive about my social life, I recently attempted to join a local friends group. This, I imagined, would be a good, easy way to meet new people. The Brits are, after all, a very sociable, easy-going bunch. I pictured turning up to a pub, to find a group of strangers crowding around a table, perhaps mildly awkward at first, resorting to British classics such as exchanging condemnations about the weather/public transport/local B-roads. Once common ground had been established, however, I was confident that I’d find myself surrounded by some highly socially-skilled individuals. I completed the online form, added a picture and a blurb about my interests, and sent it off for approval. As I waited for a response,
the plants and changing the water of the goldfish (twice a week, in case you wondered). It felt like we were house sitters, even though we had paid plenty to live there. That is another thing: the fact that you know that your eight-day stay is paying comfortably for at least two months’ rent. So, we are back at hotels now. No plants. No goldfish. I wear my shoes where I want to. Mette Lisby is Denmark’s leading female comedian. She invites you to laugh along with her monthly humour columns. Since her stand-up debut in 1992, Mette has hosted the Danish version of Have I Got News For You and Room 101.
By Maria Smedstad
say when profoundly disappointed – was not what I had in mind. It did not feel sociable and easy-going. In fact, it reminded me of something else entirely: the long email with the sober bullet points, the humourless telling me off, the dogged sticking to the rules. Could it be…? Astonished, I began typing a reply. ‘I don’t suppose…’ I paused, contemplating the likelihood. ‘…there is any chance that you are Swedish…?’
I felt nervous. What would the local scene make of my attempt to reach out? Not very much, as it turned out. A couple of days later I received a reply in the shape of a small essay, explaining how my chosen profile picture did not comply with the rules. It went on to say that once I had corrected my mistake, I was welcome to resubmit my application for friendship. I was stunned. This – as the Brits
Maria Smedstad moved to the UK from Sweden in 1994. She received a degree in Illustration in 2001, before settling in the capital as a freelance cartoonist, creating the autobiographical cartoon Em. Maria writes a column on the trials and tribulations of life as a Swede in the UK.
Issue 116 | September 2018 | 115