No news about the fact that Mondays usually suck. It’s in their nature. Today is no exception. Today is the epiphany of a Monday. I went on a very civilized pizza date last night and returned with no voice and no idea whatsoever if the guy wants to see me again. To make it clear: I would very much like to see him again. Any idea how much it sucks and pulls on my patience (which is little at the best of times) to not know whether he feels the same?
Those are the moments when I love a concept like “The Bachelor” purely for its lack of mixed messages. You get a rose or you don’t. Rose great, he wants to get to know you better; no rose cool, you can move on with your life. No mixed messages. Also you get your answer within 24 hours, which I find crucial for my sanity. In real life things are all different and in my opinion quite messed up. There is no answer within 24 hour guarantee, it can take up to a week and still be acceptable in some cultures. Some answers aren’t even real answers. There is usually a lot of maybe floating around. Insane driving maybe. When was maybe ever an acceptable concept?
The other problem is that these days it is not even clear who is the bachelor and who the contestant. Am I supposed to sit around, just assume and wait or take the initiative and hand out a rose myself? And if a certain someone* decides to go against better judgement and hands out the modern day version of a rose aka SMS themselves, what is an acceptable time frame to accept or decline the token of interest? Answers please! And no, an answer with maybe in it, does not count.
UPDATE: I just got a lovely SMS from a certain bachelor, saying thank you, but no thank you. So here I am now - no rose, but happy to know that some men still have balls.
*Yes, we all know that would be me. I know, I know...
Showing posts with label bachelor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bachelor. Show all posts
November 7, 2011
July 13, 2011
Hangover III - The Recipe.
I had my sleep, I had a juice, and my phone is M.I.A. so I have no excuses for distraction. Therefore I’m going to tell you how we met the cast for, what I think, would be perfect for Hangover III or, according to Thekla, Sex and the City with guys. There is unfortunately neither sex nor nudity involved and if you wonder why I even begin to tell the story, I can sadly admit that it was the highlight of my week. Since my last date clearly got abducted my rude aliens (they wouldn’t even let him make a courtesy phone call to cancel our date), I have had nothing exciting to kiss and tell. There you have it, this story happened because I didn’t kiss a boy. That’s a first.
It started at &Union with a rather unassuming group of four guys sharing our table. Quickly a conversation was struck over the sharing of some wine and the unassuming group turned out to be so bloody unbelievable that I thought they must have made it up.
Let me summarize the recipe for 5 guys on a bachelor trip so you can follow easily:
2 x Swedish guys - one either a spy or a diplomat
1 x Dane living in Australia
1 x Canadian who doesn’t speak French and also took it with good humour when asked whether he was American Canadian (If I had to be Canadian, thankfully I only have a Yankee accent, I would have moved tables after that remark.)
1 x Bachelor living in Geneva with a condo in Miami.
All of them met when going to school together in Saudi Arabia and meet once a year ever since.
If you read carefully you will now realize that I was talking about four guys first and then added a fifth. You ask why? Well, the bachelor actually wasn’t a bachelor really since his not-future-wife-anymore had left him a few days prior. Apparently she preferred the Miami condo life a bit too much for his taste. To cheer up their mate, they decided to still go on the trip and voila there we all were, happily drinking away at &union together. The bachelor though had felt the need after too many bottles at Rust en Vrede to curl up at their hotel room and be a sad, drunk bachelor-no-more.
Eventually he did come out and proved a good sport following all of us to Zula. There we had as much fun as you can have with 4 married guys and a guy who just got left by his fiancé, which turned out to be not bad at all. It also gave me good material for the characters if I ever want to write a screenplay, because as it turns out my teacher at university was right when he told me that life writes the best stories.
It started at &Union with a rather unassuming group of four guys sharing our table. Quickly a conversation was struck over the sharing of some wine and the unassuming group turned out to be so bloody unbelievable that I thought they must have made it up.
Let me summarize the recipe for 5 guys on a bachelor trip so you can follow easily:
2 x Swedish guys - one either a spy or a diplomat
1 x Dane living in Australia
1 x Canadian who doesn’t speak French and also took it with good humour when asked whether he was American Canadian (If I had to be Canadian, thankfully I only have a Yankee accent, I would have moved tables after that remark.)
1 x Bachelor living in Geneva with a condo in Miami.
All of them met when going to school together in Saudi Arabia and meet once a year ever since.
If you read carefully you will now realize that I was talking about four guys first and then added a fifth. You ask why? Well, the bachelor actually wasn’t a bachelor really since his not-future-wife-anymore had left him a few days prior. Apparently she preferred the Miami condo life a bit too much for his taste. To cheer up their mate, they decided to still go on the trip and voila there we all were, happily drinking away at &union together. The bachelor though had felt the need after too many bottles at Rust en Vrede to curl up at their hotel room and be a sad, drunk bachelor-no-more.
Eventually he did come out and proved a good sport following all of us to Zula. There we had as much fun as you can have with 4 married guys and a guy who just got left by his fiancé, which turned out to be not bad at all. It also gave me good material for the characters if I ever want to write a screenplay, because as it turns out my teacher at university was right when he told me that life writes the best stories.
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