Dag

Is this really a good idea?

To you, it might be both perfume and drink.

This is window washer fluid.

I don't know what Dorina told you, -

- but I've got a girlfriend. I'm not the man for you.

When you're young, you're so vivid that you need sadomasochism later in life.

Hi! How did you get in?

You gave me the key while drunk, in case you didn't wake up.

- Right. So what happened to you? - God's vengeance.

- You don't believe in God. - Mother Earth, then.

Some feminine force for sure.

This is what I've learned about Russia in 3 days. I looked it up.

3 out of 4 Russian woman will be beaten in their lifetime.

14 000 are beaten to death each year, -

- and half their kids will grow up with an alcoholic parent -

- in a country with 5 million drug addicts -

- and the world's fastest growing HIV-rate. Imagine the end of all this -

- manifested in a single woman. It's a fucking demon.

An erection-stealing demon. A demon that has lived at my place.

- Why? - Because I'm so utterly pathetic -

- when I'm horny. - I wouldn't say that.

When it comes to your partners, quantity is what matters.

And that thing?

No...

Fine. Spoon.

I thought I could do spoon. I'm the king of spooning.

I can be a tea spoon and a ladle, but no.

This isn't the subway in Minsk, it's my apartment.

I've a girlfriend and a kid You have to go, understand?

No, please. Stop it!

No, that's enough. You're leaving. Come on!

No, you're outta here. Got that?

It's karma. Everything I've put women through over the years -

- comes back to me, made manifest in a rabid female -

- possessed by a hateful libido, fired up on speed and vodka.

- You slept with her? - I couldn't!

I've slept with everything from geriatrics to quadriplegics.

There was no way. No sign of life, Dag.

- Where is she now? - I waited for her to fall asleep.

Then I slipped down to the basement and locked myself in.

I crawled inside a teepee made of skis, poles, and an old blanket.

- I hid, and called the cops. - You can't keep doing this.

No, I can't.

I'm a fucker.

A fucker has to fuck.

Ergo, I can't sustain situations that deprive me of that ability.

You hit bottom in a public restroom.

I hit mine beneath the Siberian executioner.

That wasn't exactly what I meant.

I'm going to go home, clean up and get my mojo back.

I will crawl back to Mia. If she takes me back, I'll never fuck up again.

Not just because of my dick, but because it's the only thing I want.

That's that, then.

Who are you?

I'm Eva, Marianne's friend. I'm borrowing her apartment while she's away.

Right.

She said you might drop by.

Birger.

I'm taking in the mail and all that.

I'm just about to feed my son, -

- but I can take care of the mail and the plants while I'm here.

Great. I just need to sleep a bit.

I won't be in the way or anything.

- Here? - I'm behind on my rent, -

- but that'll get squared in a few days.

What the fuck.

Great to see some new faces.

Not great, but you know what I mean.

What can I do for you?

- Want to go first, Lasse? - No, you start.

- There's never enough time. - Yes, that's a known fact.

Tell me about a perfectly normal day.

We get up at 6:30. Sebastian has to be dropped off by 7:30 -

- then Maren to child care. Then we both have to be at work by 8.

Then we work all day, until one of us picks up both kids -

- giving the other an extra hour at work. We alternate days.

Whoever picks up, makes dinner. Then, we aim for quality time -

- with the kids from 6PM to 7:30. We never get done until 8:30.

Then we work for a couple of hours.

That's a day without soccer or dance practice.

Then we have to drive them. Dinner is a hot dog in the car.

Organic. We aim to be good parents.

Not to be rude, but didn't you know all this before you had kids?

We thought it would work out, but it just doesn't.

We never get to work out! Whatever we have of alone-time, -

- goes to job dinners. Our relationship is nothing but a schedule.

We're unable to air things because Lasse can't deal with conflict.

- Is that true, Lasse? - You are!

- Yes. - Yes...

- What is it you want? - A better life.

And not feel so guilty about each other and work.

- Work less! - We're up to our ears in debt.

But you're not living. You exist, if that.

Your relationship is like watching a fat man run.

Every step is an effort.

You know that old saw, "the journey is the destination"?

Your destination is a debt-free death.

- Do you have kids? - No.

Then you don't know what it's like for us.

Sure. Or we could say that you live to work -

- rather than work to live. Your jobs do not add meaning to your lives.

- What would you suggest? - Me?

Well, since your relationship is purely logistical...

Get a divorce. Share custody, so you can work night and day -

- all week, and then see your kids the next week.

If you miss each other, you can meet up every other weekend.

Perfect solution. Everyone is happy. No disappointments anywhere.

This isn't helping at all.

Can you pick up today? I have to wrap up a presentation at work.

- Yes, if you can deliver tomorrow. - No, I can't drop them both off!

- Thank you. - Good luck.

Hi, it's Dag.

Hi, Trine.

I was just about to call you.

Yeah, about that coffee.

This is not a good time. I've got clients -

- well into the afternoon all week.

Yes, I do have to eat.

Dinner? Yeah...

That's great.

Right?

Deal. I'll look forward to it, then.

Fine. Bye.

- Congrats, Dag. - For what?

The couple you just saw? New record.

4 minutes and 57 seconds.

Shit.

- Having a bad day? - No more than usual.

I read your latest book -

- when I was in for... - Detox.

- Call it what you want. - Rehab. Repairs.

Drying out.