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...

Mr. Trombone

So one time I stalked a guy on the Internet until he went out with me. For real... this was even before Internet dating existed!


Sometimes girls waste time at sleepovers talking about the guy they want to marry. I know, guys always think sleepovers are all pillow-fights in sexy underwear.... well. It is. We just took a break. While the feathers settled on our sexy dewy skin.... we discussed "The List."

At this time in my life really the only thing on my list was "NOT a crackhead." Except that I really liked Ska music and I told all my friends that I was going to marry a trombone player.

2 weeks later guess what happened?

I MET a trombone player in a ska band at some show somewhere that I can't remember anymore. He wasn't particularly good looking, decent, but with bad hair. Really bad hair. Like, he put it into a top ponytail and just cut it off, then let it fall where it may. He opened up the convo with "Hey, do you like Ska?" so he was basically IN. However, to my chagrin he DIDN'T ask me for my phone number.

No matter. I can stalk him on the Internets.

I went on his band's web page, and emailed them all asking them if this guy had a girlfriend. I never heard back. So, I emailed him asking him out for coffee. WEEKS passed and he emailed back... and we agreed to meet up. I can't remember where, or when but we started hanging out a bit. I soon learned that all his band mates called me "the creepy Internet girl." Well, I guess it was true, at least. It was pretty creepy to do that. I admit it. But that's because I really AM that creepy and just restrain myself most days.

So after hanging out a bit, phone talking... that kind of thing, I invited him to be my date at a Christmas banquet. Except... this guy didn't have a drivers license and I had to pick him up. Not from his house, from this weird obscure place across town that I drove past 5 times on a one way to try to find it. By the time I picked him up, I realised that this was not a love match. Even though he had put on some snazzy John Fluevog shoes, he still didn't comb his hair. It looked the worst it had ever looked, and I was actually embarrassed to take this guy. Because I had to babysit him all night at the table, I didn't get to visit with any of my friends at all... who were convinced that he "Like-Liked" me because come on... banquets suck. You don't go to a banquet with someone unless you like them.

Halfway through the meal I went to the ladies room. I came back, and MY FOOD WAS GONE. He had told the servers I was done. Come on.... that's insane. I was too nervous to eat all day and the best part of the night was stolen and scraped into a garbage can. Sigh.

So after it was over, he flat out refused to come out to a coffee shop with me and my friends. Not a big deal, but it was a tradition and I was disappointed that I had to take this baby home. We get in the car and he says he's thirsty. Sigh. We go to a Denny's.

While we sat there chit chatting I started to get the ska out of my eyes. I realised that almost everything he said was really condescending. He would say something, then stop himself and say "Oh yeah, you wouldn't know anything about that... " in a really annoying tone of voice. Buddy... YOU CAN'T DRIVE... WHO'S THE STUPID ONE HERE? I figured that I wasn't planning on calling this guy up ever again, but I did want to figure out if he did "like-like" me.

So what does the creepy Internet girl do? I just flat out asked him. His reply kind of shocked me.

"No, I know you too well to like you."

??? What! ???

Did you just say that?

Out loud?

Buddy. I don't know if you were raised by monkeys but that's cold. And Rude.

I really had to force myself to drive him to his house. Didn't want to do it, but that was in the early days before I got screwed around a lot and knew better.

Funny thing though, I ended up working for his sister after that and she agreed that her bro was kind of an ass. Sometimes it doesn't matter if a guy wears nice shoes.... kind of like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Or, in this case an ass in sheep's clothing. Explains the hair.