One time I was sitting in the seafood bar at Copenhagen Airport. It’s a very nice seafood bar. A woman with long blond hair and a tight, metallic-printed T-shirt insisted on ordering at the display case, instead of sitting down and waiting for a server. She then took the seat next to me. She had first spoken Danish, but when she heard me talking English to my server, she switched to English also. She sang to herself in English, too, and seemed to be having a conversation with no-one in particular. She got her sampler plate, and wasn’t happy that there was no crabmeat on it. She ordered crabmeat, and another glass of Chablis, all in English. Then, after a few bites of her food, she abruptly decided to leave. She attempted to pay with coins, but didn’t have nearly enough. She gave the server her debit card, and after looking at it, the server started somewhat dismissively addressing her in Danish. After she was gone, the server looked at me apologetically and said, ”She’s from the Faroe Islands”, as if that explained everything.