Copenhagen Part 1: Always bottom bunk

I already committed my first newbie mistake while checking into my hostel this afternoon. When the nice man at the desk asked me - in flawless English, as all Danes seem to speak - if I'd like a top or bottom bunk, I told him it didn't matter. Oh, poor, sweet, innocent Meg, how wrong you were. This nice man proceeded to put me on the bunk atop that of an enormous man who sleeps uncovered in his too small undies and snores with the sound of a hog trying to make it with an asthmatic cat. He also seems to have restless leg syndrome and is having a dream about lifting many grunt-inducing weights. It should be noted that there are about 15 empty beds in the room.

The hostel is lovely, by the way, and I'm still in a great mood. You know why? I'm in Denmark!