Since I cant sleep anyway due to too much caffeine earlier I might as well stay up and tell you a story - but could you please hand me that blanket over there? It has been a long day and an even longer night and I am a bit cold and weary though not able to sleep yet.
Maybe I better start at the beginning though with me being silly enough to argue with my imaginary Johnny boy and now I cant even remember what about ... That is not important either but the little darling left in anger and went to our local bar where he met some friends and began drinking with them.
One drink took another and they soon left for what they thought would be a better place down the street. And another place a bit later and then another and - and I think you get the picture -o*
When Johnny had left in anger I found his wallet on the dresser in the bedroom and almost went after him to give it to him. But then I decided not to do that hoping that when my sometimes a bit silly and certainly hot headed guy found out he had no money he would come back to me so we could make up and everything Johnny especially - would simmer down.
But no Johnny showed up as the night progressed.
I had forgotten about that charm of his which always seems to make him able to get what he wants when he really put himself into it. So getting drinks and cigarettes without two dimes to rub together was no problem at all for my man.
Later Johnny told me that he had actually been about to go back for the wallet when he found out it was missing and he only had a little cash in his jeans pocket - some change he had gotten back earlier when buying some apples and milk, he smiled.
But Sean, a friend of his, asked him very seriously if he really was that frightened of the little woman at home that he'ld crawl back like that and ask for forgiveness humbling himself.
A moment Johnny says he thought that going home and making up with me sounded like a very cosy thing to do.
But then all the men around the table started to talk tough about having to show who was the boss and not giving in. A man after all needs his freedom and space to breath. Why should women decide everything? They had never understood anything anyway, they stated with all the wisdom of a lot of booze
My sweetie was sensible enough to look rather sheepishly when he told me this later - but also claimed that all this made some sort of sense when one had drunk quite a lot. And since some of our argument had been about Johnny forgetting to call home earlier in the day and me getting worried my boy did want more freedom at least enough not to have to feel guilty for having made me nervous.
Conveniently forgetting that he behaves the same way himself - or even worse - if or when I am late for something ... He *o* 
That said I do believe Johnny when he said that he tried to call me a couple of times during the night but that the first pay phone he found was busted. The next was busy. His cell phone battery had no more power and as the night wore on he also knew I would be more and more worried and more liable to get mad when I heard he was quite O.K. but drunk as a skunk as he said himself so he gradually gave up on trying to reach me at all ...
But when Sean and another guy started to get so drunk they wanted to fight all and sundry they met on their way Johnny had had enough. He is sometimes a bit of a hothead himself but fight just for the fun of it has luckily never been his style.
So he bluntly - and not that wisely, I must admit - told them they were more stupid than ought to be allowed by law when behaving like that. A true statement if there ever was one but it almost got him a beating too hadn't he in the nick of time slipped between two very big and broad ushers at a discothèque who knew Johnny by sight but not Sean and his mate.
They had seen belligerent drunks enough in their line of work though to tell the two gents immediately to take their business elsewhere. And when Sean yelled loudly 'But you let Johnny get in and that son of a b.... ... seacook is just as drunk as me!' the biggest usher told him that he could get very much in trouble trying to make people deaf by running around screaming like that and now he would either leave on his own or get kicked on his way.
I don't know how Johnny does it but he seems to have friends everywhere who is always more than willing to save his gorgeous little hide when ever it needs saving - maybe it's that charm again -o*
The only place there was no one to save the little cutie pie was home at 'mutter Fit' - erm - 'mama' here so when my dear little boyfriend finally did came home at four in the morning with a sorry looking bunch of flower he had gotten somewhere hoping to use those to pacify the 'dragon' I got mad instead.
Yes, yes, I know - I should have tried talking instead of yelling - but I am a Danish chicken after all ...
O.K. maybe I better explain this to you dear foreigners ... You see, the Danish equivalent of a always worrying Jewish mother is called a hen mother in Danish so I - as a chicken - sort of can't help imagining all kind of things that could have happened to him while he was gone.
One thing worse than the other like mugging, rape or murder or all three things together - cluck! - Sometimes I wish I had NO imagination at all! But only sometimes *o*
And there he was a little bedraggled and worn out but healthy enough to ask whether or not I had cooled down some. Which he then promptly found out that I hadn't!
So Johnny left again in a huff.