some fella called Charlie went on a date with a girl he met the other night. He decided to ask her out for a few drinks at the pub down the road and she agreed.
He gets there first and decides to buy himself a pint as he waits nervously for her to turn up. He gets through half of it before hearing the door go and the short rush of cold air is immediately warmed by her entrance. He greets her, and after much deliberation on her part buys her a red wine.
An awkward hour's passed by and she can't help but notice that Charlie's general demeanour has been that of a man disinterested and nonchalant. Initial disappointment at his apparent indifference to her had turned to irritation and she can't help but ask:
"Are you alright? You seem a bit distracted."
He takes a moment to respond...a solitary tear spills down next to his nose as he replies:
"I can't stop thinking about Bjørn Tore Kvarme."