What´s in a crayfish?

It was at that god-forgotten crayfish party a long time ago. It must have been in the 80s. Lin and her boyfriend invited their friends: Jon, Linda, Thom, Alf, Birger, Bert, Monti… Only Anti could not come. Or he might have had an intuition that he could not be there. And that was it. His intuition should have to serve as a professor´s gift years after that. He must have seen it in the stars.

Lin and her boyfriend just had one small room and a kitchen. Bathroom of course. And the room was crammed that day: no that evening! That evening in August when crayfishs were allowed to be gathered from the lakes and creeks – or wherever they could find them? And vodka is the ”nubb” that has to be swallowed pure, no coke, no juice, just plain pure. Probably because of the close borders to Russia, the home of vodka. But Sweden could not be worse when it came to drinking.

They had decorated the room with pictures of red crayfishes all over the place. Silly hats on their heads, just to give an idea that it was a silly season. And they had to celebrate August as a period of itself.

Lin did not like to hook into the creature. All the rest had several of them. Lin and her boyfriend were not that tight anylonger. And he, her silly boyfriend with a silly hat, served vodka after vodka. Filled the glasses and they all had to drink, except Lin who had Rosita beside her dish. A kind of wine that ought to be served to the starter.

The crowd became more and more drunk. Lin dreamt of another man, somewhere else. He should roam the pub downtown. He should be out there, while the party was on-going. Or was it?

”Half-way up. Whole-way up...” The song of the vodka ritual went louder and louder. But as Lin grew more addicted to the meatballs and the wine she felt like she had no more reason to be a servant to her guests. Besides it was not her idea that they should have that stupid crayfish party. Just because it was a tradition in Sweden didn´t mean she could not sneak out the backdoor. Oh such a party. Oh such a silly way to get drunk. Oh how Lin yelled at one of her friends when he had got so drunk that he began spitting out the crayfish on the plates. That yelling was about it! Her friend, Linda, got mad. Mad because of Lis anger. Mad because she felt that her boyfriend was sort of harrassing her. He nagged as usual. Suddenly Lin heard a bang, a sound from the bathroom. The alcoholized man, the elderly one, had fallen backwards into the tub. Lin yelled again. ”What on earth are you doing in that idiotic tub?” And he was mild and sweet as always. Was asked a forgiveness that was not tolerated by the hostess. (Or could she be hold hostage?)

The camera was brought around. Silly pictures that had to be shown for years to come. The godamn table filled up the whole room. And they were stucked in there. Went out to the balcoony to smoke now and then. Had intellectual conversations just about the Russian theories. Or whatever!

Lin felt like getting rid of them. She could not tell them why. She felt for leaving the whole situation. She went up the wallpaper when she got that sense of not being there. And as she felt something like that, drunk of course, she might as well declaring that they all had to grab a taxi for taking a ride to the pub. And that was it. They all looked at her. Was this a party in accordance with crayfish´s tradition? Or was it not? A tradition when to get drunk was the whole reason of eating those silly creautures. Those things Lin could not manage to break into. So her boyfriend had to be the host. Vodka host. Or vodka hostage?

A smash all of suddenly. They had had a row, Linda and her nagging boyfriend. It was a quick uppercut from nowhere, nothing to be expected. From a woman´s fist. She was in her 20s. A fist that got the drama into a new phase. Lin felt she had to admire that show. That a girl – a woman in her own youth – could give back to the nagging one. That was historic and had to be written down. A smash. She was from now on one to be admired. Only, Linda did not want to have any admiration. She was sick about it all. She felt betrayed, but not by her boyfriend, but because of Lin´s wish to escape the party. ”We all have to go downtown to the pub...you see?”

No one said anything about it. Or perhaps Linda knew deep down that there was a kind of man at the pub waiting for Lin. Now? This evening? This very night? When they were to enjoy a party in the first place!

That was the drip that hit the stone with wet corrosion. The party sort of corroded into the harsh night. The party sort of went further into the dark. The party went into the mind of each and everyone with a severe corrosion. The wet, wet vodka turned their minds all screwed up. F-cked it all!

And not only the vodka. But just about the severe an ugly thing that the so called hostess had to break up. Had to make them going into the reincarnation lane, to figure out if her (Lin´s!) boy was her past life cowboy. Just imagine! Breaking up her own party to follow something so silly as a whimsical thought out of the shere blue. Her cowboy. And Linda yelled: ”Don´t you think you have had enough of your American cowboys? How about trying a true Viking next time, hu?”

But outdoors the cab was waiting. Ticking and tapping into next minute and next. They all stood up from their chairs. Linda sullen. Lin felt like creeping back into her mother´s womb. And the rest left. Without any word of goodbye. Just stood up and left. And Linda refused to get into the cab. And Lin went to that famous Växjö place. No cowboy was there! Or past life cowboy, really, no?

Afterwards she could not remember how she came back to that room. Table mingled with plates and bottles and ashtrays. And her Rosita wine. Crayfish all over the table.

She woke up and smelled the cigarettes from the ashtray. She felt no remorse from having left the party. She felt a remorse from having betrayed a cowboy in her past life. What about the boyfriend in this life? Well he had been a great host after all. Serving the best vodka the town could boast. And that should be a memory for years to come...In this life, we could guess...