A Beginner's Guide to: Crossing the Street in Denmark

How do you cross the street? Up until 3 months ago, I crossed the street the second I got a chance to, along with the 8 million trillion other impatient New Yorkers trying to get somewhere. It doesn't matter if it says "WALK" or "DON'T WALK." What matters is getting your nonfat soy caramel no foam extra whip double shot venti frappalappa crapacino.

Not in Denmark.

You cross when the little man is green. No exceptions.
Picture this: rush hour in the heart of Copenhagen. The little man is red, but no cars are coming, no bikers. A crowd of 50, no, say 60, people are standing at the curb, waiting to walk. Waiting to walk. No one budges until the little man is green. I'm the girl in the front, hopping up and down and looking like a dog who has been demanded to SIT while her owner dangles a fresh-off-the-grill pork chop in front of her nose. It's torture.

Once, after a three hour psychology class and 3 minutes until my train, I was feeling ballsy and crossed, even though the little man was red. I felt kind of bad ass until I realized a hoard of Danes were looking at me like I just cursed in front of their grandmas.
Never again.

Hope everyone had a lovely weekend!
P.S. I've been gaping at these black & white photos for the past two days. "Unexplainable" is an understatement. My favorite has got to be the man with a child's face coming out of his butt.