A German Breakfast in France.

Oh my gosh. So I went to France.

The thing about France is that EVERYTHING is a tourist attraction. Moulin Rouge, the Louvre, Eiffel Tower... crawling with people. Everywhere you go you can't really get a moments peace and enjoy yourself unless.... you get up at 5 am in order to get there before everyone else does. I tried this. I'm not a morning person by any means but I did it. Woke up at 5, and was downstairs for breakfast by 6.

The man that served breakfast in my hostel was really creepy. And really French. He would watch you to make sure you only took one croissant and one day he frowned at me taking 2 sugar cubes and on my 6 am early day he saw me coming and REMOVED the sugar before I could take one. Then he pretended he didn't know English when I was like, Dude I can't drink this tea without sugar.

So this random German guy offered to share his honey. I usually don't accept food from strangers but since he was using it I thought it was probably ok. And part of travelling is getting out of your comfort zone and eating mysterious honey and talking to strangers at 6 am is definitely out of my comfort zone.

So I asked this guy why he was up at 6am and he said he hadn't been to bed yet, because they were at the club all night and then drank "many bottles of wine" outside on the sidewalk. His English (for a drunk guy) was actually really good, and he was actually really good looking. Tall, blond, beardy, strapping German lad. All he was missing was the Laederhosen! They don't make guys like that in Canada... and if they do they're in the woods somewhere because I can't find them.

So my new German friend invited me to his room to drink "bottles of wine" with his friends. Hell no. I was like "Oh, sorry I'm meeting my friend, I'm going to Versailles today!" I mean... it's 6am. Do you really think I have time to become a statistic and miss my grand tour of Europe because I'm skinned alive in a creepy hostel in france? Actually... it was a really nice design hostel.

So instead my new German friend invited me to come to Germany! "You must come to Germany and stay at my house and we will go to nightclubs! Germany has the best clubs and we will dance!" He gave me his phone number in Berlin... his address... he told me which train to take and all that jazz. I was kind of regretting putting makeup on.

(This is the best part.)

Then he made a sandwich and beat boxed for me. When I say that he "beat boxed" what I mean is that he said "boots and pants and boots and pants and boots and pants and boots and pants" over and over again... while doing a rave dance shuffle and eating a sandwich.

And I never saw him again...

#40. The guy who rides a bike.

This was actually a fun bad blind date. I met this guy online and he seemed kind of cool so after a few emails we decided to meet for coffee. And I don't even like coffee. So we met at one of those trendy hipster places where things are organic, and vegan, and middle-eastern with dirty couches spaced around the room. Everyone is wearing Tom's Shoes and a beanie or high waisted pants with frizzy librarian hair.

So this was one guy that actually did look like his profile picture. Bonus. A tiny bit chubby, but that can be attractive. At least he's not anorexic. First off he gets a beer. I get a hot chocolate. I kind of raised my eyebrows at the beer, because he initially said he was a non-drinker, and his profile said he was a nice Christian boy, but to each his own---- I'm not judging. I'm about almost half done my hot chocolate and he gets up and gets another beer and knocks it back. Ok, I thought... at least drunk people are funny. So I started asking him really strange questions, like "Would you rather have really long arms or really long legs?" And he says, "Whattttttt? My legs would be too long to walk, I'd have to cut them off and put them in my backpack." So I did this for awhile. I think there was nothing good on T.V that night, so might as well entertain myself. We actually had a lot of fun, and the next hour he had 2 more beers! By this time he is actually drunk and he can't even sit up properly, and he starts throwing pennies into my empty hot chocolate mug. He got one in, I don't know if it was legitimate or if it was a fluke.

I was hoping that I wouldn't have to drive this guy home, so I asked if he lived far. He lives all the way in Millwoods. It was winter, and really cold out, and I hate winter driving. To those that don't know, Millwoods is really far. I hate the south side, I always get lost.

So I tell him that he can't drive home, because he's had too much to drink. Guess what he said? "No problem, I rode my bike." Sigh. I told him that he shouldn't ride his bike across town because he could get run over, so he should take a cab. But because he bought 4 imported beers and a hot chocolate he didn't have any cash.

I had to make the choice.... give him money, or drive him home. I'll be damned if I will give a stranger, (a cute one) money for a cab. Be responsible and either don't get drunk, or keep an emergency $20 pinned in your underwears for when you are acting like a loser.

I decide to drive him home BUT HE WANTS ME TO BRING THE BIKE. I drive a really small car. I kept saying that it won't fit, there's no room... but he actually was really adamant that we at least TRY. Who am I to argue with a cute amusing drunk guy at midnight? Unfortunately, there is no front passenger seat in my car so it actually fit, with him in the backseat with his legs draped over part of the bike. It takes me almost 30 minutes to find his stupid house. He kept giving me bad directions, and finally I made him give me his drivers license so I could see the address.

Finally I find this guys house, grateful that he didn't puke in my car, and yes................ He did. He asked me if I wanted to sleepover. HELL NO. I thought about giving him a piece of my mind, but instead I  flung his bike between us and was like... see you later.... got in  my car and drove off... in the wrong direction, I got lost again, and this was before iPhone magic. I decided to ignore future booty calls from him, since I'm a non-alcoholic and don't want to be tempted.