For this particular post, I also toyed with the title, ‘This is why you don’t *%$~ (insert your own colourful swear word) off a blogger’.
Anyhoo, after two hours of the most painful hours in my life spent in the company of a certain ‘gentleman’, without the merciful shot of Novocaine or a near-by hand gun for that matter, I felt compelled to write this letter.
Dear Mr ‘Gentleman’
After our last encounter, I feel the need to give you a free lesson in Dating 101.
First things first, when running late, the polite thing to do is to text or call the person waiting for you to alert them of this.
Furthermore, in future, if you are ever too tired to go on a date that you set up in the first place- cancel the date before hand (with enough warning in advance). Nothing makes a woman feel ‘more’ appreciated and sexy than to gaze across a candle-lit table and watch her date yawn. Constantly.
And I shall be forever touched by the pièce de résistance you delivered at the end of the evening, when after only 3 previous meetings with me, never seeing my work, not knowing my full story which includes how I came to Berlin in the first place- you decided to lecture me on the fact that I couldn’t speak German, and how I needed to ‘reassess my priorities’ and so effing on.
I have to state here that yes, of course one should take an active interest in learning the language of the country they are living in. That is not my issue, my isssue is the arrogance at which you delivered your views; without knowing the facts, you presumed to know what is best for me in my life right now. I couldn’t believer your nerve at telling me the great language leaps and bounds you made in Spain within a month, but what I wonder is within that month- were you looking for a place to live? Were you studying a Marketing Communications diploma? Were you writing a children’s book? Were you pursuing freelance styling and writing work? Did your pursuits land you a fashion editorial spread in a magazine or a written editorial for the Mercedes Benz Fashion Week Magazine, Berlin? These are all the things and more I am doingmon chéri. So in future, on a date, when a woman tells you of some of her achievements try to compliment her on them instead of just focusing on what she can’t do. After all I didn’t give you shit when you said you were not keen on reading books, which in my books (pun intended) is a major Nein-Nein.
And the funny thing is that, that month I had been trying to pick up more German words from my friends and being more inquisitive about how to say basic German words but I didn’t tell you this. Why? Well, by the time you sexily barked at me to list my priorities to you in order of importance, I mentally pressed my ‘eject’ button.
I also have to stress another thing- giving someone advice is one thing putting them down to make yourself feel better is quite another and you did the latter so fervently that I can’t help but wonder just what you were trying to (over!!) compensate for. The fact you hail from Munchkin Land and need a Pogo stick to propel yourself into bed perhaps? Just a guess.
Notwithstanding the fact that during our date, I had never worked so hard since I studied for my Bachelors Law degree, I have to say that what really irks me is what I could have parlayed the money I put down for my dinner (which I couldn’t eat due to the unappetising company). I could have rented many an entertaining film from the video club I had just joined, I could have used the money to go and see the photo exhibitions I’ve been dying to see or I could have gone to a vintage shop and bought a fabulous black, lace vintage bustier with sewn in gems to boot.
Readers, Don’t Cry For Me Argentina because within a week of that ‘date’ I met another (taller!) guy and went on another (more successful!!) date. That’s just how I roll.
And now its time for you to tell me of your horror date experiences, have you had any to top mine?