Welcome to ‘Slutty Sundaes’ the third!
Seeing as I am on a theme of stories of travel I thought I would keep it going until I can think of some new material but for now this is what I’m giving.
Last year, after my stint in Canada and after heading through America with my mum finally ending up in Europe and spent some awesome time in a friends single unit in a university dorm doing what anyone would do in Amsterdam, having some good weed.
Before I even arrived in Amsterdam for my friends weed that literally left me lying still and hardly being able to retain a thought, I went to Frankfurt.
FACT: One of Frankfurt’s biggest incomes is from Brothels
Frankfurt is a pretty awesome place. It’s not terribly big, at least from what I experienced but something about it had this cool funky vibe. The brothel in the ref light district has the prettiest balconies. (See picture)
I headed there by bus from Prague which felt like forever. We were stuck in traffic for so long I made a little video on iMovie. Although I’m not entirely sure where it got to.
Anyhow, I arrived and walked into my hostel which was your typical hostel with 5 levels (thankfully a lift). I made friends and had a wild night of drunkenness and slept most of the following day (I should write that story another Slutty Sundae).
I pushed myself out of bed and grabbed a snack of fruit, while deciding my next plan of action. I headed to the main area downstairs.
Somehow, I had got to chatting with the guy at the front desk. In fact, I distinctly remember sitting and he came up to me. Sitting across from me he gave me his life story.
How he ended up in Germany, why he loved the German language and how he grew up especially insisting on how he treated women.
Now that I think about it. I should have known he was in to me. But I didn’t. Cliche girl move I know but honestly I had no clue. I just thought maybe he was showing off and did this to all girls. So I thought nothing of it at the time.
“Would you like to have a drink with me later tonight?” he said, casually in the conversation. Still not suss.
“Yeah sure.” I answered nonchalantly.
He continued to explain how he was over hanging with his work mates and that they were having a bit of a get together but that he wasn’t interested and would rather hang out with me.
I thought this was nice but again, whatever.
Oh by the way, I wasn’t really into him, but hanging out might be nice.
10pm hits and I had visited a garden area with sweet flowers beside one of the kid trains that if I sat in it, I would probably break it.
We greeted each other and he paid for my drink at the hostel.
Again, he detailed how much he disliked always being with his hostel work mates.
The conversation drifted between my time in Canada and his experience in Germany. He then suggested we head to this pub on the corner, not too far from the hostel. An Irish pub.
I agreed and we headed off.
Now, I don’t know about you but if I’m drunk enough, I would definitely get into Karaoke. But, with the right people.
We sat down and he bought me a jug of cider (as I explain Beer is not my drink of choice), I noticed that the conversation was lacking.
I’m not sure what happened maybe it was because I insisted he sing with me to which he completely shut down saying
“I never do Karaoke. It’s just not for me”. – THAT should have been my red flag.
But it wasn’t.
As the conversation became more stale I noticed his demeanour changed. And then he said it.
“So like, do you find me attractive?”
😶😐😑😵😦😳😓 – that was the order of emoticons in my head.
Now I should state. I can be socially awkward at the best of times. This was clearly one of them.
“…errr, what do you mean attractive?” I said trying to bide my time for a better response.
“Are you attracted to me?” he said, in literal slow motion. (No it wasn’t slow mo but damn I wish it was!).
I was was so lost so I said what any nice human would say. Too nice of a human would say.
“I find that to be attracted to someone I have to get to know them better, I can’t just use looks as a basis” I said, cringing inside forever and till this day.
In other words, no I did not. He was completely NOT what I look for. But seemingly nice. Or so I thought.
He didn’t find this enough. “What if I asked you to kiss me?” he insisted.
Even uttering the words “lips” in between his sentences while pointing to his own.
“I don’t think so…” I said feeling even more awkward, wishing the English blokes next to us could save me from the disparity I was in.
He said this twice to which I clearly thought my opinion was stated.
After which, he then went to his phone and left me sitting there feeling awkward and with a quarter of cider to go.
The next 15 mins, we were just looking around and listening to the music. I wanted to jump into a hole, or better yet throw this douche in there. Then it happened.
Straight away he said “Oh you’re ready to go?” to which I seized the opportunity and lept up before he could finish “…and I’ll walk you back to the hostel.”
Now, I had known he lived close to the hostel. We made our way to the front and he basically said “Okay bye”.
I then interrupted him and replied “so you’re going home?” and he said
“Nah, I’m going to meet up with my work mates, bye” and he walked off.
This guy moaned about his work mates half the night saying he’d rather be with me and then to leave and say he was to go back with them – because I rejected him?
Look I get it, it’s hard to put yourself out there. But if you’re an arsehole about it because you didn’t get your way, it says a lot more about you than to begin with.
It was funny now that I think about it. I thought ‘fuck him’.
I walked up to he hostel bar and required a shot of vodka. No one was around and then I noticed some guys heading down stairs to the pool table.
I swear that vodka got to me because by the time I headed down the spiral staircase, I felt quite typsy.
I found the first guy who looked nice and needed sympathy. Approached him and told him what happened.
After I finished the guy said, “Oh yeah him? I know him. He’s like that. Don’t worry.”
I felt myself fall into that hole back at the pub.
I had drunkenly bitched about the rejected guy to the nice guy who turned out to be his mate!
Let’s just say I got the hell out of there as fast as I could. I used the bathroom as an excuse and then went straight to bed.
Lesson learnt. Red flags are red flags for a reason.
Nights out for ‘Slutty Sundaes’: