Saturday Night: Last Night; "The Tiggeroo Incident"

Andrew, Myself, and Frank the Tank
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Thankfully the next day was Saturday because that meant I wasn't missing a thing by sleeping in until 3:00.  By this point in the Sweden experience I was exhausted, malnurished, feeling ill, and had dozens of unexplainable bruises all over my body...basically I was kind of worried I may die before even going to my first class.  Unfortunately those fears would have to be put on hold until Sunday, because there was still one last night of partying to be had before getting down to business.

Myself and U.S. Jane...she's adorable.
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The last day of induction week was intended to be a classy one as the Student Union put together a formal dinner for all the new incoming students.  Unfortunately, since the previous week had been a total blur, somewhere along the line we had missed our opportunity to buy tickets.  Oh well, I didn't have a suit anyway.  Apparently the dinner wasn't that great, but every two people got to share a bottle of wine...and there were a lot of people who didn't like wine so a bunch of people left the dinner with an entire bottle of wine in them.  This was great because when we met up with them at Ã…tta Glas later they were almost as drunk as we were.  Tyson had somehow snuck into the dinner with some Swedish kids, and Sam still hadn't gotten out of bed from the previous night so Chris and I were left to fend for ourselves.  After some pre-drinking with Chad (Canada), Jason (US), and James (NZ), we were once again on the bus heading downtown.  Chris and I felt a little left out after missing the dinner, so we decided to throw on some ties before heading out the door.  (Sidenote: ties are excellent dancing props - I highly suggest going to a club in a tie at least once).

They attempted to take it off but their attempts were futile

The first Tiggeroo picture I could muster...things had quieted down by now
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Aside from being roughly the same temperature of a Sauna, Ã…tta Glas proved to be a decent host for the night.  Many people left due to heat stroke fears, but I stuck around and had a really fun time.  With all these missed meals and dancing I was about 102 lbs at this point (not to worry - we've been eating like kings recently and have become fat slobs...I think that's better?).  While all this clubbing was good fun, the real entertainment of the evening was yet to come...

Aly loving it! I think he was the only one
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"The Tiggeroo Incident" - I've given this incidence its own title and section for my own satisfaction, because I want to look back on this blog when all is said & done and remember this night especially.  I know no one will find it very funny because I suck at storytelling, but no matter how good a writer I was there would be no way to accurately convey the hilarity of this night.  The feelings and looks of bemused horror on people's faces cannot be captured in a simple paragraph.

Tyson...is...done
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It all started as I met up with Chris and Tyson in our flat (they had left the easy-bake oven earlier in the night) and we decided to hit up a post-party on the floor directly below us with the French/Swiss cats we had met the night before.  The festivities were typical Western European; laid-back, everyone engaged in enlightening conversation, perhaps a beer in one hand, demure and generally unentertaining...basically everything Tyson can't stand.  So what does he do?  Out of the corner of his eye he spies a Tigger costume (from Winnie The Pooh) that one of the apartment dwellers wore as a Halloween costume when he was four years old.  Now, for the uninitiated, Tyson's nickname back home is "Tiger" so he decided to do what any drunken Australian would - attempt to put on the costume.  At first it appeared there was not a snowball's chance in hell he was going to fit into it, so everyone stood back and chuckled at the goof who had bitten off more than he could chew.  However, in a move that would stun an entire continent of people, Tyson SOMEHOW got the friggin thing onto his large body and began dancing on top of a chair to a chorus of shocked gasps.  I don't know what happened within the first 20 seconds of the Tigger suit going on because I was literally on the floor in tears of laughter.  I remember Chris yelling "Get a picture!  Get a picture!", but I couldn't compose myself quick enough.  I think the funniest part was the reaction of all the Europeans who didn't know what to do with themselves.  They attempted to take it off but their attempts were futile, so they spent the rest of the night yelling at me to take Tyson home.  I tried to play it straight and say "I'm sorry for this, he's had a bit too much to drink", but every time I started a sentence I would break out in another fit of laughter.  Seriously one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life.

Us in the stairwell after being escorted out. I'm still friggin laughing.
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Result: Chris and I attempted to take the Tigger suit off, but to no avail.  Much to the Frenchies' chargrin, Tyson would be sleeping in poor "Tiggeroo" for the night...as well as rolling around on the floor with him and sliding backwards down a flight of stairs (ouch - even the Euros had a laugh at that stunt).  Tiggeroo was returned to his owner the next day after 5 minutes of pulling in the morning.  Once again: we play poker with these guys quite often, so no hard feelings came out of the evening.  Phew.  Week over.