These past few days the dare has been hard. My weekend was utterly uneventful except for my niece’s birthday party on Saturday and the new week started with an auto repair bill of more than I can afford right now and a big, weird bruise on my knee. I guess it was to be expected to be tricky some days, but it is just damn hard not to mope on the days which are most mope-worthy.
I also think by now I have behaved so nicely for so long (or so it seems) that I really deserve a treat. Like a nice date. Not one that I have to stalk in the mall. If he were to stalk me that would be fine though, but no psychopaths please. It still scares me a bit that the last one knows where I live. So no, thank you, I need someone a bit more…normal. Though Nele says normal translates to boring and who would want that? Yes, I know it ain’t that simple and things usually don’t go this straightforward, but why actually not? Stomp my foot here and pout.
Fine, I shall stop with the moping now and just hope that one of my happily married/engaged/committed girlfriends reads this, will chat with her awesome husband/fiancé/boyfriend, and maybe come up with a plan to set me up with one of his equally awesome/non-psychopath/yet non-boring friends. Anyone?
In the meanwhile I shall practise my patience in addition to everything else and will be patiently awaiting the arrival of my non-mall date on my yoga mat. *
*Though we all know if that actually happened, I’d probably be really pissed off why there is a person I don’t know on my yoga mat.
Showing posts with label mall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mall. Show all posts
June 12, 2012
June 7, 2012
Any & the elderly.
As I have established the Garden Centre is not only excellent to run into ex-boyfriends, but also flirting with potential new ones. Though that might be a bit of an overstatement as I have actually never turned a flirt into even a date, but I am working on it… For any tips how one can take a guy charmingly from a shop queue to a bar I’d be grateful.
Yesterday seemed to proof my theory on it being an excellent hunting ground though, only this time at PnP. Which I will now admit I generally prefer for this purpose (and sorry for calling it that!); the other day I was just grumpy since the Frenchman walked out of there. And no, don’t worry, I do not pick my shop by the amount or attractiveness of men, it is just something I’ve realized over time.
Probably inspired by my new found blog love Mayor Gia who has a boyfriend which is apparently older, but as she replied upon me raising a concerned eyebrow: It's all legal and consensual and whatnot. Just a bit weird. So that’s fine then and again, I was apparently inspired, because there I was flirting with an older gentleman. By older I mean…I actually don’t know exactly what I mean, but he was wearing proper pants and not jeans, which is always a sign of a certain age. He was also wearing a sleeveless cardigan. Now you will immediately think hipster, but let me assure you, he wasn’t a hipster, which is good, because I don’t do hipsters. He was wearing the cardigan because that item of clothing actually belongs to his age group.
I realize I make him sound really old now, but he was also handsome and had a nice butt, which I could see in these proper pants of his. Overall good enough reason for a little flirt on a random Wednesday afternoon and so the flirt continued outside the shop. I even went upstairs after he did though I didn’t need to and ended up in the book store. While I was trying to look like an inconspicuous book browser the unbelievable happened: the guy had turned around and was coming towards me on the other side of the gallery. For one second I was naming our future children and then I saw him hugging and kissing a beautiful brunette on the cheek. Which could mean only one of two things:
1. He is married. No need to elaborate on this.
2. He has a daughter who is older than me, which even with the nice butt makes him way too old for me.
Thus I went home alone and watched True Blood which was way more satisfying than stalking older men in a mall. So I actually take it all back what I wrote earlier as this proved my point once more – I am not made for malls!
Yesterday seemed to proof my theory on it being an excellent hunting ground though, only this time at PnP. Which I will now admit I generally prefer for this purpose (and sorry for calling it that!); the other day I was just grumpy since the Frenchman walked out of there. And no, don’t worry, I do not pick my shop by the amount or attractiveness of men, it is just something I’ve realized over time.
Probably inspired by my new found blog love Mayor Gia who has a boyfriend which is apparently older, but as she replied upon me raising a concerned eyebrow: It's all legal and consensual and whatnot. Just a bit weird. So that’s fine then and again, I was apparently inspired, because there I was flirting with an older gentleman. By older I mean…I actually don’t know exactly what I mean, but he was wearing proper pants and not jeans, which is always a sign of a certain age. He was also wearing a sleeveless cardigan. Now you will immediately think hipster, but let me assure you, he wasn’t a hipster, which is good, because I don’t do hipsters. He was wearing the cardigan because that item of clothing actually belongs to his age group.
I realize I make him sound really old now, but he was also handsome and had a nice butt, which I could see in these proper pants of his. Overall good enough reason for a little flirt on a random Wednesday afternoon and so the flirt continued outside the shop. I even went upstairs after he did though I didn’t need to and ended up in the book store. While I was trying to look like an inconspicuous book browser the unbelievable happened: the guy had turned around and was coming towards me on the other side of the gallery. For one second I was naming our future children and then I saw him hugging and kissing a beautiful brunette on the cheek. Which could mean only one of two things:
1. He is married. No need to elaborate on this.
2. He has a daughter who is older than me, which even with the nice butt makes him way too old for me.
Thus I went home alone and watched True Blood which was way more satisfying than stalking older men in a mall. So I actually take it all back what I wrote earlier as this proved my point once more – I am not made for malls!
April 12, 2012
A new first.
I think I have mentioned before how I do get excited about firsts. The obvious of first dates, first kisses, first time waiting by the phone for a new first to call. However I get especially excited about firsts that are that in the true meaning of the word. Something I have never ever done before. Yesterday was such a first.
As you may or may not know Germany doesn’t have a mall culture. They are few and far and for most parents a place where not to bring your children as opposed to dropping them there with some lunch money and a rat pack of friends.
Instead of malls my friends and I hang out at:
- Mc Donald’s for the times we had a one hour break – official or unofficial – as it was just a short trip from school. Admittingly this was no better than a mall.
- The Italian ice cream parlour Zanella for after school meetings. I cannot even begin to recall how many hours I spent there day after day, how much money I wasted on toasts, cappuccinos, and cake, and how much I must have annoyed my mother with all of this.
- Pustekuchen (don’t even ask what that may mean), a sort of bar/bistro establishment for smooth day- to night-time transformation that I fondly remember for crispy chicken fingers with honey mustard sauce. One time my friend Silja and I decided to ditch a field trip with our creepy art teacher and instead spent the entire day there. We managed to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner; played darts, read magazines, and did not get bored for 12 hours straight. I think to this day we hold the record.
There were probably a few more in between, but those were the main places we hung out, we socialized, and yes, where we met boys. No mall in sight, no mall needed. Different countries, different cultures, but I have thus grown up with a huge dislike of malls for both shopping and socializing purposes. It is just not in my DNA and my complexion doesn’t look good in fluorescent lighting.
Yesterday everything changed. I had my very first date at a mall. I became Dorothy and braved the wizard of malls: Canal Walk. I got lost in the parking garage when I got there. As you can imagine stuff like that makes the German in me, who can’t be late even if I try (and I have tried!), very nervous. Not ideal.
But as it turns out malls are not so bad after all.
1. They do serve wine.
2. There is candle light to be found.
3. If you take a date, he can help you find your car. (Keeping in mind the mall doesn’t provide those. You gotta bring your own date. Alternatively ask a car guard though he won’t buy you wine.)
4.Window shopping en tête à tête when all shops are closed is in fact so great I shall never allow any future children of mine to go to a mall. Ever. Sorry, kids!
5.Window shopping…ups, I already wrote that. Now you know how great it is.
So here … let’s go to the mall!*
*A line which you will only appreciate after having your own successful date at a mall or after watching How I Met Your Mother.
As you may or may not know Germany doesn’t have a mall culture. They are few and far and for most parents a place where not to bring your children as opposed to dropping them there with some lunch money and a rat pack of friends.
Instead of malls my friends and I hang out at:
- Mc Donald’s for the times we had a one hour break – official or unofficial – as it was just a short trip from school. Admittingly this was no better than a mall.
- The Italian ice cream parlour Zanella for after school meetings. I cannot even begin to recall how many hours I spent there day after day, how much money I wasted on toasts, cappuccinos, and cake, and how much I must have annoyed my mother with all of this.
- Pustekuchen (don’t even ask what that may mean), a sort of bar/bistro establishment for smooth day- to night-time transformation that I fondly remember for crispy chicken fingers with honey mustard sauce. One time my friend Silja and I decided to ditch a field trip with our creepy art teacher and instead spent the entire day there. We managed to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner; played darts, read magazines, and did not get bored for 12 hours straight. I think to this day we hold the record.
There were probably a few more in between, but those were the main places we hung out, we socialized, and yes, where we met boys. No mall in sight, no mall needed. Different countries, different cultures, but I have thus grown up with a huge dislike of malls for both shopping and socializing purposes. It is just not in my DNA and my complexion doesn’t look good in fluorescent lighting.
Yesterday everything changed. I had my very first date at a mall. I became Dorothy and braved the wizard of malls: Canal Walk. I got lost in the parking garage when I got there. As you can imagine stuff like that makes the German in me, who can’t be late even if I try (and I have tried!), very nervous. Not ideal.
But as it turns out malls are not so bad after all.
1. They do serve wine.
2. There is candle light to be found.
3. If you take a date, he can help you find your car. (Keeping in mind the mall doesn’t provide those. You gotta bring your own date. Alternatively ask a car guard though he won’t buy you wine.)
4.Window shopping en tête à tête when all shops are closed is in fact so great I shall never allow any future children of mine to go to a mall. Ever. Sorry, kids!
5.Window shopping…ups, I already wrote that. Now you know how great it is.
So here … let’s go to the mall!*
*A line which you will only appreciate after having your own successful date at a mall or after watching How I Met Your Mother.
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