Tangelo (n): hybrid between a romantic and a rat. Every word he or she composes is zested flavor, but upon delivery beyond a screen, they fall short. Their intentions are truly rotten and remains lurk near sewers. No subtly in this post. This man must have set a record with how quickly he made me bitter. I know, I know. A guy starts spitting perfectly arranged words at you behind a screen on a tired dating app, should hold very little relevance. But call me vulnerable. Call me naive. The first is probably more true. But, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I believed him. This guy was super cute and seemed genuine. Or maybe I just wanted him to be. He opened with a warm compliment about my smile, in which I jokingly replied was only appealing because of the many toothless smiles in this area. He cracked up, but reassured me. Great sense of humor too, check. It was as if he was playing a game of Dance Dance Revolution. Synchronizing arrows to the illuminated foot square. He couldn't wait to meet me he couldn't stop complimenting me, he was sweet, and he was interested. I knew deep down that he could very well be spitting the same things to other girls, but I didn't think it would text so close to home, again. Should I continue the story or do you already know where this is going? He had also been spitting almost identical messages of affection and longing to my blonde, bff roommate. I felt like I was in a 2008 R&B song.....She said they had talked while I was in Spain and he stopped talking to her because he got a girlfriend. He found her again on the site the day after we realized he was a word Romeo, and began zesting the conversation with hopeful compliments. Immediately, she addressed the situation and he said he missed her and made amistake makingthe other girl his girlfriend. Meanwhile, back at the office, I was slammed with work and didn't check his snap message until later. When I did, it was erased. I guess I'll never know what it said (more fragrant fluff, lacking genuine girth). I inquired, but he refused. He didn't inform me of the happenings, my bff did. So... when I was filled in on the details, she said they had a date established. I'm sorry.... what? Why was her appeal to someone whom was quick to dress up a stranger in messages, but hoped to undress a girl he "should've picked" the first time? In conclusion, he did just that. At dawn before their date, she asked honestly what his intentions were. She specifically prefaced that if it were for sex, she wouldn't be mad, but would just would like to know. She didn't have to squeeze him for information... he pealed the romantic facade right off. "Just sex." "You asshole!" *block* All that was left was his pulp.... Since this is the most unappetizing flavor of the week, the dessert should illustrate that.....I could NOT think of a better dessert. Each ingredient is another line that "sounded good" for him to throw at some innocent girl.
Okay, okay.... I know neither my roommate or myself fall in the innocent girl category, but hey! This still doesn't warrant Mr. Tangelo's actions.
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The circus adventure continues! Every circus has an artsy, more balanced side. This round of online dating walked the tightrope towards my attention... which do YOU think were successful?This pun-tastic conversation was with a past fling that only lasted two dates and then he chose the other girl in the running. Man, what a flashback to kickball team pickings: picked last every time, like a squishy grape lonley on the vine. But hey! I'm probably the most potent for wine! This guy has two blog posts and almost had a third when he invited himself to visit in pensacola... but then, unsurprisingly, bailed because This guy actually KILLED ME by this response because I was giving him a chance; he seemed like a sweet, sensitive type, but boy did I underestimate him. While engaging in casual conversation, he revealed that he is a writer. Eager to find a fellow word wrangler, I inquired of his specialty. Here I was thinking scifi or historical nonfiction-- maybe even comic strip teasers..... I was close: Erotica. I was pretty taken aback when I responded. Then he asked if I minded reading some since grammar is my thing. Ummm.... But, before responding, this girl turned it around to see if this was just a play from his playbook. YUP. He let girls he thought were "interesting" read his works. Then, this is where the conversation halted. ^^^ Marketing for his own creative display of "art." He now claims he was kidding but.... I could never be so sure. Tightrope walkers are experts on balance. To be continued.....You're unbee-lievable; every spoken word, a sting.
Your presence is a constant buzzing. Yellow Jacket edge with peripheral admiration. Flashes of freedom with wings of resistance. Pollinating my schedule as you please, you create your own fragrance. After combing through your expressions of affection, I've rejected your honey as worthy. So share your sap with someone else! A continuation of why girls, the really great girls, fall for bad boys....Are we imprisoned by their edgy look and questionable ambition.... or is it something deeper?"Bad boys are genetically more fun. Who wants to follow the rules? There's just something so much more appealing to me. They dress better, they have a sleeve of tattoos, and if you're lucky, a motorcycle. My mom and sister said they too would love states for my current bad boy. Bad boys are naturally players and of your psyche, your ID is narcissistic, so these boys feed that sense of self. If you get the bad boy, you feel like the girl next door. " "I was heartbroken and he gave me enough attention and kind of made me feel like I was needed. Even though on you, deep down. It wouldn't go anywhere. I was in a place where he fit the bill. The one time I didn't want something long-term." Your standards aren't even there and you were needing somebody and they were there." " I was much younger than I am now and much less experience than I am now when these bad boys made their way into my life. I was such a good girl and a good girl wants a bad boy. I was 16 and he was a bad boy and all his friends were and I just felt safe and secure around him. They are kind of a forbidden fruit that you have to have. He was such a douche and I never really got it got what I wanted, but I kept going after it anyway. He was a nice guy but his lifestyle made him bad." I LOVED how genuine these responses were from the dozens of girls I polled. Some of their perspectives really hit me in the gut. It made me realize... there's another vantage point completely neglected....It's a man's world (still...don't get me started. I'll sit down...for now), so let's get a man's perspective on why the grandest of girls go for the baddest of boys."Honestly I think because they don’t know what it’s like to be treated by a guy that has good intentions." "Either she really really cares and loves him no matter or doesn't believe anyone that he is a bad guy at all.... and I couldn't tell you why girls like that stuff. " "Bc good guys are boring and having something to fix is easy to confuse with someone to build." "Girls like danger. A guy with an edge to him will always get the girl over a guy who is perceived to be boring." "I would say it stems from insecurities." "It’s an ego thing, people want what they can’t have. They try and Change people. I feel like a lot has to deal with perception and how we were raised.Love languages are important and I feel like personality traits play a part also." "Usually it's because at first they make them feel secure and loved and over time the guy tends to forget that he still needs to show love and stops and sees the girl is still with him even though he's a dick . He gets a taste of that and has no reason to change . The girl stays with him because she thinks deep down inside he will change." "Good guys are boring." "Eventually yes, they go for the “bad” guy. Whether that means he’s a jerk or just a style or how he treats her or just not Mr. RightIn my personal experiences no one is ever really ready to find what they are actually looking forSo when they do they sabotage it and more often then not rebound or run back to what’s comfortable or safe, and even though on paper the nice guy seems like the safe choice relative to the bad boy, the nice guy is actually far more scary because he’s something to lose, he can hurt the girl worse than any bad boy ever couldI spent the last 2 years in an on and off relationship with my absolute soul mate. Over the course of the 2 years she ran 3 times. The first time she told me she loved me. When we started living together. And after she asked me to go ring shopping and we picked out a ring and put money down on it.Each time lead to a panic attack, freak out, anxiety whateverShe’ll always come back to me cuz she knows I’m the guy for her, but when she gets everything she’s ever wanted she loses control, has something to lose, is vulnerableSo more often then not in our swipe first, fuck second, feelings later society when people find the right one (guys or girls) they find a way to sabotage itAnd then it compounds because everyone gets sick of being the one getting hurt. I went and did the rebound thing after the last time we split up and I’m sure I hurt some feelings in the process (even though I was 100% transparent).A nice guy isn’t gonna give you a reason to leave, he’s gonna treat you right and what if you get scared? What if you’re not ready for forever? Then what?" "In my opinion I’d have to say it’s some sort of thrill. Possibly connected to some sort of childhood trauma if you will. But if someone believes that all of their partners are bad then they will constantly seek out bad partners to justify their thinking." "Well first off im 1 of the good ones 😂 but always wondered the same thing and why its always the really really good looking girls that seem to have it all that go for that type of guy. The girl i am currently seeing almost 2 months now yaaay go me 😂 u do chat about past relationships and things and she had been with ex's in the past shall we say none of them good... and she knew that going into those relationships and i asked why would any girl do that to herself if she knows the guy is no good will cheat, use, or abuse or whatever... she said she thinks girls like that that go for guys like that want that kind of a 'project' challenge whatever u wanna call it and be the girl to make that guy change for her... make of that what u may 🤔🤔🤔🙄🙄🙄 its a mystery that may never be solved... bad boys will always be popular and not going out of fashion anytime soon 😂" "I believe girls tend to fall for bad guys because they might feel like they have an exclusive ticket to being a part of the “bad guy’s” emotional and loving side. Everyone loves having access to something that is rare and I feel like it’s the same deal with girls and “bad guys”, they get to see their emotional side." "It goes back to prehistoric times then women choose on how big and strong as well as how many wives and children he has as the bigger the family the better the chance ofsuccess when hunting for food this attraction is still in women's DNA." " I guess it’s exciting maybe?" "Personally I think woman get bored; they want excitement. They always think of what could be more and never wanna settle for good. Good isn’t good enough they need change something different something dangerous something to excite them." "It's actually kind of simple; they think the good guys are boring. I mean if a good guy gets up goes to work at a good job where he can sustain a future he doesnt have time to devote every waking moment to someone and bad guys have made women so insecure and other women and their hoeish tendencies help create more insecurities that if he is 10 mins later than normal coming in from work because he stayed later she is going to wonder what he is doing or who he is with. Plus a bad guys will give a false sense of security every woman wants to feel safe and a good guy doesn't give them that because it goes back to they feel they are boring because they don't push the envelope or have friends they shouldn't hangout with because they know they can get in trouble and potentially mess up their career and goals. Good guys do end up getting a good girl in the end because a real woman falls for a good man while girls fall for the bad boy." There's a handful of lovely quotes still to be shared... catch ya on the flip side #sunnyside^So, I've reached the point in my dating where I've said goodbye to WAY TOO MANY good guys. Guys most girls would kill for! Guys practically made for Disney princesses.... but.... I find excuses and exit clauses and I break it off, much faster than a kitkat (no, I didn't give them a break). Sure, I've got my sights on things much more significant for my future than a guy right now, sure I've said I haven't wanted to be tied down to anyone right now, but then BAM! I find myself chasing after guys with caution tape ALL over them:
Why great, established women indulge in relations with bad boysNice guys really finish last and I have proof. I polled 25 successful, beautiful, and charming women that, in my opinion HAVE IT ALL. The question: "Why did you give a bad guy the time of day when you know DAMN-WELL he's no good for you?""You want what you can't have. You know it's never gonna happen and it's satisfying." "Good at sex 10000% main reason" "I don't think I've dated bad guys. All the guys I can think of were pretty nice and good and I’m on good terms with a good chunk of them" "So the first time we ever hung out we drank a whole water bottle of tequila that he stole from his parents, all while we were driving around in a golf cart. We actually ended up dating for two-and-a-half years. He was hott, he was a grade above me, but there were so many red flags! At the time, I just thought it was a great freaking idea." "I was fresh out of a breakup and I met this guy at the State Fair. After clicking, he revealed that he had just been arrested and was on probation. I still pursued dating him. He had a nice car (even though he had no license), he was older, from out of town, and my favorite, was he was unlike anyone I've ever been attracted to. Then, after we broke up, I dated his friend. He was even older. Super cute, a firefighter in training, and was very hard to get. That was intriguing. I almost became obsessed with him even though I knew he would never be in a relationship with me." "This guy had his own apartment downtown and we only dated three weeks.... But three weeks was something. He took me to a movie that was about how to make a porno. It was really weird that he would do that with me being 16! I knew he was all wrong but, he was mysterious. He was outside of my school, so no one knew him. Part of me wanted to go through a bad phase. I liked him because he was different. Any bad boy I have encountered was because he was different." "Several bad boys! They weren't good people and didn't treat me well. Then again, they're not like me. You want them to be different and I was looking for different in the wrong places." "Well thats a loaded question. I think many girls want to push boundaries and get the rush that 'bad boys' give you. Those type of boys make you feel alive and you can be someone your not in all other aspects of your life. If all of your life has been safe it's fun to be with someone that's not 'safe.' It's kind of like knowing storms are dangerous, but you still like storms and even want to go out and play." "Wilson in high school was my irresistible bad boy, because he was so edgy and different and I wanted to shock my friends with an older man who went awol from the marines." "I think I always thought he would get better, like he would say sweet things and that meant he was capable of doing sweet things deep down. BOY WAS I WRONG." "I was into a guy that was arrested for drunk driving a car that didn't necessarily belong to him. But, I'd been single a long time and well... Needed to get laid. I feel like that's what bad boys come down to sometimes." "Bad guys play games. Like you really have to chase them. It's kind of like a competition with yourself if you can get him." "Hahha probably not a bad boy cause that's not my type but defffff someone who wasn't good for me. Ugh wanted it to work so bad even though I knew it was a bad idea" "I don't know how to answer. It just is an attraction..." "Bad boys were always interesting to girls who grew up with restricted households. We want that thrill and feel of "danger". But in the end, the quintessential "bad boy" was unreliable, most likey unemployed or constantly in between jobs, or had a disgusting living situation. After a while, they lose their wow factor and we move on. Or some of us don't because we think we can change them for the better." "This guy was homeless, lots of baggage, and had NO interest in any kind of a relationship. He stood me up at least once, yet was the best sex I've ever had and was soooo hott. I'm sure he still is hott..." "It just.... kinda happens." "Because you know it won’t last long term....So you let yourself indulge and get to experience it while you can. No one actually wants to settle down with the bad guy. They know he won’t last." "Ahh, that bad boy! They're aloof; they don't care about anything. His mom was having a party and said he guessed he could take me there at the spur of the moment. When they see you, they want you right there. No date, just instant." 4 more said they don't go for bad guys.... mhmm ;)) lol jk I've accounted for their absence of bad boys. So, I'd like to say that girls are completely innocent in bad boy rendezvous... but, we knew what we were getting into.Tip to 5***** Guys: Distraught from my current living environment, I reached out to a Facebook group of current aupairs in Madrid to validate some of my frustrations. I found one girl that was an aupair years ago and stated her Spanish mom was similar; deflated, I almost accepted my chosen fate. Then, I received a response from a girl named Nora who set me straight. "They're doing what?! They're restricting food? Are you even a person in their eyes? And the kids are just following in the parents' footsteps. And what's the deal with the dog-- you're not a dog walker!! This is supposed to be a mutually beneficial experience where you are able to live comfortably in another country and travel during the week sometimes and always weekends and they are able to have assistance with care and an English teacher. You aren't supposed to exceed 6 hours a day. MAX. I get that allowance weekly for ONE KID; they're taking full advantage. Leave. LEAVE!" She requested to meet up and we enjoyed allegedly the best churros in Madrid and devised a plan. So, after learning that my experience was a sad excuse for an aupair arrangement, we brainstormed plans and I began devising a plan to leave. I've had plenty of experience with the leaving, so here's another situation this applies. I don't run from everything, but when I get a gut feeling that it isn't going to be mutually beneficial for both parties for very long, I begin evacuating. Competition can be a negative quality, but in this respect, I think it's fairly positive, even though leaving is never easy. This less than preferable situation with this Spanish family illuminated my dependability upon those I love most in this world: my friends. This poem is dedicated to my mom, Lauren, Tiffany, Danny, Emily, Sloan, Michelle, and Corey. Oh what a relief is a person called friend.
Absolving uncertainty with laughter And then, carrying you through rubble and thorns; Not solely today, but the past when it mourns. Humbly appreciating the unattainable things, Sunshine through snowflakes, summers, and springs. Mishaps, mistakes, and knee-scraped downfalls. Hysterical vibrato through messages and calls. Encouragement for kilometers and beyond. Vibrant connection even when gone. Smiles for simplicity others wouldn’t think twice. Friendship enhances life with unmistakable spice. Forever blessed are the ones alive with its zest. Nestle here is where life’s strife can rest. Concealed in comfort, courageous in thy arms. Together, shield the other from unimaginable harm. Battling heartbreak, devastation, stress, and loneliness; Friendship is the opportunity above all not to miss. There have been a depravity in juicy dating stories because I've been too busy surviving. Think I'm kidding?Remember my encouraging post about making the most of what you have? [10 days ago...go check it out;)] Well, that's not a full-proof plan; it's simply taking the high road. When that plan doesn't work, one needs to devise a plan to Jump Ship! Forget Jack, let go.So, it's about time to share my first aupair experience: atrocious, awful, astonishing just to give you a taste. These are my confessions.... "just when I thought all I can say..." #usherbabyI signed up to be an aupair in Madrid, Spain for a family of 5 whom I interviewed via Skype and was awarded the 2 1/2 month position on camera. The dad informed me their village was 20 minute train ride from Madrid and I would have my own room and bathroom on the third floor of their home, which doubles as their playroom. No cleaning is necessary since the primary goal is familiarizing the kids with English and babysitting occasionally one night on a weekend or two. Outlined in the aupair program is that aupairs are not to exceed 6 hours of work a day unless an emergency. FYI. I maintained contact with the family for the months leading up to the position's start date and I reached out to everyone on the list of references of previous aupairs. One of which was their current aupair and some of the others (that responded) said they had worked with the family a couple years ago. The overwhelming conclusion was: the mother is very strict and you must be "tidy" but, they are a great family. When I arrived, the dad was eager to practice his English with me and continuously had to remind me to slow down with my speech. This isn't an abnormal request from practically anyone that converses with me at one point or another. If the Tasmanian Devil could talk, I would be a primary example of it. I was introduced to the children, whom were all off to bed and then I was introduced to the rules. They seemed standard until the mother put her input in.
I was slightly confused why all the visible food was restricted for my consumption when this was part of our agreement: room and board and equivalent to 60 US Dollars a week. A WEEK for teaching three children English, wake (these kids are NOT morning people), feed, assist, and bring them and their puny dog to school, then pick them up and take them to various activities, walk the dog two more times, fold laundry, do the dishes daily, homework, and coax them to bed every night at approximately 10:45. I inquired, for clarity, what food I was allowed to eat. Ramen noodles (which I didn't even eat in college), rice, sandwiches with turkey and cheese, cereal, homemade yogurt the dad makes, and what they were having for dinner that night. Two days later, the mom retracted cereal from the list because "it's for the kids." ThI began voicing my concerns to my loved ones back home and the consensus was, I'm really strong and basically, I can do it. They started to find it kind of humorous the dinners we would be served: artichoke (no sauce, no meat, no bread- just 2 artichokes) or collard greens with two dime size pieces of ham. Tuna stuffed into a hard boiled egg or beet soup with boiled fish rounds. Yes, fish (God knows what kind) cut/shaped/morphed into round disks and boiled in water and plopped onto a plate. The youngest told me I couldn't eat the yogurt because it's for *proceeded to list everyone in the house but me* and I said that's one thing your dad actually said I could eat. I live here and I need to be able to eat too. How tragic is it that his parents are training him to treat people like this. I began to feel like "the help" and almost less of a human being. Then, I got reprimanded for using the wrong small towel as a wash rag. and she said "you can buy you." In disbelief that in a room and board situation, where I'm already not being substantially fed, that I was being asked, or told rather, to dip into my 16 euros a day (m-f) I said, "Um I have to spend some of the very little money I have on something to clean myself that should be part of living here? I don't have towels or anything." "You can *gestures washing with your hands* "I need to maintain my hygiene in order to take care of your kids. I didn't bring a towel or sheets or anything." But then I had to reword that sentence since she didn't understand. Who tells their guest that's caring for their kids that they have to buy their own wash rag when u folded wash rags of her's YESTERDAY?! "I'll see what I can find." Meanwhile, the downstairs bathroom has a BASKET of facecloths. I was enduring but not enjoying living in Spain. I worked for the weekend just like in the states and went to Madrid when time permitted but, the advertised "20 minute train ride" came with strings attached. This train ride is a fast train that goes about 90 mph so the actual drive time distance from their village to Madrid is 45-50 minutes. OH! And the walk to train station from their doorstep was 25 minutes (23 if you walk like you have ants in your pants). I bought some edibles, no not pot, and cooked some of them in the oven with one of the only oven dishes I could find. I washed it thoroughly after but it still smelled a little like food, so I put it in the dishwasher. Big mistake. HUGE. The mom grilled me when she opened this dishwasher later that night for what I cooked in it and why did I use the oven. "Oven, you can't."
I tried to stand my ground because I have no desire to eat every lunch out of the microwave; not to mention, I was trying to harness the poquito (little- see! I'm picking up the language of the land) power I did have. "No. Sorry, no," was all she could articulate in English. Turning, tears leaked from my tear ducts like a neglected faucet. Quickly, I swiped them away, but the oldest had already seen me. He spoke a sentence in Spanish to his mom and she didn't respond. I continued to help him with his project as his siblings were annoyed that I denied their request to play with them in MY ROOM. Remember, the third floor is my room and the playroom wrapped into one perfect little package. My bed is conveniently folded into the couch, complete with springs galore. . . . Trying to be respectful of their culture and their home, I continued to play by their obscene rules. I went to bed hungry every night and joked with my friends about the airplane cookies I ate in my closet and the bottle of sangria I bought at the corner store, strategically hidden in between my jacket and bottle of hairspray. The kids offered very little respect and were fairly defiant in speaking English with me when the parents weren't around. During one of my pleading sessions with them, the youngest snapped that "I'm always on my mobile" which is a bold, italics, and underlined lie. The oldest tried to guess my screensaver code one too many times and locked me out weeks ago, so I left my phone in my purse when around the kids. This infuriated me that the youngest accused me of this because this would only be ammunition for the mom. I corrected him, but I'm sure it did no good. The backlash from the mother rained like Seattle. The dad was very conscious of energy used-- hence the dish and clothes washers must be full before running, the lights should be off, regardless if the new worker in your home is walking down the 3 flights of stairs, soap should be watered down to last longer, and coffee is made every other day so you can warm up the left overs on the opposing day. To comply with this request, I kept the colorful mug (1 of 10 or so unique mugs) I used for my coffee as my water cup for the rest of the day. I refilled it all day. The mom inquired who used that mug and then informed me that I could ONLY use the Star Wars mugs because the others are "special; Stephanie cannot have special." My best friend had been researching flights for me, but I couldn't justify throwing away 3 flights (my one back home AND my round-trip flight to meet my Irish friend in London). I also didn't want to be a quitter, but boy could I feel the life draining out of me. I deserve better than this. I am worth SOMETHING. I reached out to other aupairs in the Madrid area for comradely. I was so isolated. I didn't know the language, I was in a little village where everything closes early, I work like 8 hours a day for no food and a crappy bed that the kids are able to access anytime, and cannot seem to do anything right to the queen bee of the house. I know this isn't a brutal dating story, but it's brutal none the less. I would make a recipe to parallel this experience, but I'm not permitted to use the oven so, buy your own desserts. I must admit... Copenhagen was a bit of a let down. All the hype about it being "the happiest place on earth" and all the pictures of the quaint fishermen's town of Nyhavn were kind of just that. I enjoyed myself, don't get me wrong.... but Disney still earns the title of "happiest place on earth." It doesn't help my southern soul that there was snow and ice on the ground.... After perusing the city, castles, changing of the guards, and quaint restaurant stops, I returned to my private hostel to get ready for the night. It was Wednesday but, there was a popping pub crawl in Rome on a Tuesday so I thought I at least had a chance. Wrong-o. So, after snapchatting some friends back home, I conducted research of places nearby to drink and begin my own pub crawl. Fun fact: "club" is not what you think it is. Strip bar is exactly what it is. Exhausted after my 20 minute google search, I glanced at the temperature only to scream a little inside. 1 degree Celsius. Yeah, I'm going to go somewhere close.... Even three blocks chapped my nose, cheeks, and fingers through my thin red gloves. It was probably the most unique bar I've ever walked into in my life. No, I don't remember the name... I guess it could fall under the classification of a dive bar. It was the closest one from my hostel, aside from the one inside my hostel, which closed at midnight. Once inside the warmth, there were four seats at the bar and tables set up in a colorful room reminding me of TGIF Friday's. Various bright signs coated the walls and tables were filled with excitable groups with glass bottles in front of them or attached to their hands. The bartender was as inviting as a Black Widow. Already frustrated that it was painfully obvious I wouldn't know a word of the language, she tapped her bony, wrinkled finger on the bar for me to decide what I wanted. To my left, was I kind of older man with a goofy grin. I could feel his eyes resting on me while I tried to make this decision. Do I want a beer? Should I get a cocktail? I don't even know what they're known for in Copenhagen. What if I order the wrong thing? My mind is racing and I feared it wouldn't make it to the finish line. "Try us something 69," the deep voice to the left of me suggested. To this day I still don't even know what it's called because my phone was dead, so I couldn't even take a picture of it. "Oh is that good?" "I'll say; this is my fourth one and I'm feeling it! It's much stronger than American beers." "That obvious ehh?" "Well I'm from the states as well." Surprised and relieved, I replied, "You've got a bit of an accent." "Yeah, I've lived here over 10 years now." "That makes sense." Spitting a word at me in Danish, the spider-like bartender had about reached her limit. "Ummm yes, can I please get that this something 69?" Rolling her eyes, she whipped around and threw it on the counter. "Do you have a bottle opener? Not amused by my unpreparedness to walk into a bar without my own bottle opener, she did so and spit out a number with a thick coated accent that I couldn't comprehend.... "umm.... How much?" I said as I fumbled with A 50 krenn. She snatched it from my hand before I could do anything else and moved to the cash register. I took a seat at the bar stool directly behind my legs, failing to notice someone in my age bracket was seated directly to my right. Throwing my change on the counter, she returned to whatever it is spider bartenders do. After noticing the attractive man to my right, it didn't take me 3 seconds to realize his posture hunched over the bar and droopy eyes. We made eye contact and I mustered up a "Hi." Hello he slurred in an accent different than anyone I didn't countered so far on my Europe trip. Iranian I guessed? He possessed very dark features and a slightly muscular build. He slurred something else with a smile but, like the bartender, I couldn't make it out. Smiling awkwardly, I shifted my eyes toward the older man whom had proved he could articulate. We talked about the states and what brought him here. We talked about the 60's and how not only did he smoke pot with Janis Joplin, but he did her a couple times. Okay sir. He inferred it was an orgy, but I wasn't buying it. The girls to his left had an antique ring on her left finger and looked Danish from what I could tell. She was a very attractive woman and looked at least a decade younger than him. But that's not saying much... I feel like Europeans age better than Americans from what little I've seen. She revealed after my inquiry to pull her into the conversation, that she was indeed Danish, mixed with Swedish. That explained her gorgeous accent. The older gentleman spoke Danish with her to prove his bilingual status. At some point during this conversation, the attractive man left; hopefully went to find a bed somewhere. The American certainly was right about the beer. It was notably stronger than your average lager. Feeling much thirstier than I typically do with beer, I spoke softly to the spider-bartender with as much etiquette as I possibly could. "There's no way I could get a water is there?" She grabbed a bottle and I asked for tap water. "Please?" Curtly, she spat, "No. I don't even think the tap works." "Okay thank you..." But she didn't hear me. She whipped back around and returned to her spider tasks. Five minutes later, she used the same tap she pointed to to wash dishes. Okay lady. Okay 30 minutes later or so, my couple friends left for their train back home. They lived about an hour from Copenhagen. I told him how great it was to meet them and slipped out of the bar with them.
As soon as you opened the door, a doll that was connected to a string and two wheels lifted up. After closing the door, the doll returned to its original position. Bizarre. I wish there would have been some sort of bar crawl so I could have enjoyed a little bit more of the nightlife and Copenhagen, but, I still enjoyed myself and was able to make a blog post out of it ;)) I went to a free walking tour that was affiliated with the Pub Crawl and it was canceled because only two people showed. No. It wasn't Congress St. or Fry St. But, it was one of the other Americans from the group and boy did he reveal juicy intel. We'll call this guy Cali-Jing. Rationale? He's originally from California, but presently resides in Bejing, teaching English as a second language. NICE. Anywho... He started talking about the crawl and how he was disappointed about the pubs they brought us too and then asked for my opinion. What was I supposed to say? I had a blast because I had two hotties with bodies fighting over me? So... I just compared it to my crawl in Dublin, which had absolutely NO Americans and how I found it comforting that there were several for me to get on a first name basis with... ya know what I'm saying? ;) IRONY. I didn't remember his OR his hottie friend's name OR the guy I was talking to in this very conversation. He said, "Yeah, well the other Americans had fun because they were only looking to hook up." I raised my eyebrows and subconsciously leaned in. "Yeah, they were hitting on the bartender and tour guide and contemplating if they were going to stay with the crawl if there weren't any other participants." "Really?" was all I could muster up. My mind reinforced the fact that "hellllllloooo these are single military men, in their twenties, and have quite big ah-ha-ha egos FROM AUSTIN, so yeah... this shouldn't be of surprise. What did take me by surprise, to say the very very least, was when Cali-Jing said, "Yeah, and the one playing beer pong with you even said he had a girl friend before you got there." I'll be damned if 6th Street wasn't telling the bloody truth. And I believed his "she was my first love and I messed up and now we're just cordial --YET SHE'S THE SCREEN COVER TO MY PHONE." I should have broke out into song on the Spanish steps (that's where we were walking when Cali-Jing revealed that minor detail). At least he wasn't married but GOSH! This is NOT the first time this has happened. Cheating poppycock! I feel so bad for his girlfriend... who would've known the more aggressively flirty one would have been telling the truth? Who would've known to ask the other American in the group's opinion? I was visibly and verbally torn up about it and in an attempt to comfort me, Cali-jing said, "Well, she had to know with him being abroad, it wasn't going to be a great combination..." "But that's no excuse to cheat. I have no tolerance for infidelity...." "But, you don't know what she's like or the nature of their relationship." "Is he being blackmailed to stay with her because he's a Russian spy? No, he should have broken up with her. I had a boy friend in the states and ended it because I knew the distance was going to be nearly impossible with the time change, the 4 significant people in my life I need to squeeze into conversation/skyping/snapping daily, and prime time activities like hiking and such when that may have been the only time for me to talk to him.... it just wasn't fair to him. And selfishly, it wasn't fair to me to restrict my travel when the point of this adventure is to soak it ALL in. You can't have your cake and eat it too." I wish I had a picture of his face when I blurted all of that out. "Well.... I guess you're uh, right." "He kissed me!" "Well, you didn't know..." I was beside myself. Obviously, I didn't reveal my rendezvous with a complete stranger to another complete stranger but boy, was the guilt train riding me. All I kept thinking was OH MY GOSH!
And the party keeps rocking....OH! This is a picture my new friend from Cali and Bejing took of me and my new Asian couple friends. I seem to have this knack for strangers.....
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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