There's a huge gaping hole
in my account of life in Germany and that is: dating. As a young and spritely
single girl in Munich, I have thrown myself into the deep end of dating
Deutsch-style – and what an 'interesting' pool it is. Although my first forays into
dating in Germany involved a Dane and not a Deutsch wonder, that Nordic
adventure was somewhat brief and I could no longer ignore the daunting task of
tackling the blonde hair and blue eyes of zee Germans (note: nobody I have
dated so far has had either of these attributes).
So, let me begin with:
Marathon man. Before female readers everywhere start applauding me for my
beginners luck, it's important that I clarify that I unfortunately mean
'marathon' in the running sense. You'd think that I'd take a slow and subtle
approach back into dating right? Wrong. I, being the genius that I am, decided
to accept a blind date. A blind date involving running. A running blind date!
Somehow I didn't think through the fact that when I run I look like a dying
mongoose that has been dipped in deep red paint. I think my naive-self figured
that if he could like me in my running gear sweating up a storm, then effort
and fabulous outfit on date 2 would be like a gift from the Gods (yes, this is
how my mind works).
So I turn up at the agreed
spot on a sweltering summer day to complete a 40-minute blind-date/run around
the English Gardens. Non-Munich readers should know that this involves walking
down a normal shopping street in your shorts, so you are already feeling self-conscious
before you arrive.
There he was standing on
the other side of the road. An Adonis. I couldn't believe my luck – how wrong I
was. Marathon man was socially inept. After greeting me (thank god no awkward
one or two kiss moment!) and telling me his name, there was no small talk.
"Shall we go?” he said.
Now, I decided to leave my
running gadgets at home to avoid looking like a bit of a pretentious pr•••.
Marathon man? Oh no, he had every gadget that Nike ever made, and then some.
Within a few minutes of setting off he asked me "Is this pace good for
you?" as I was frantically panting beside him and reluctantly replied
"Sure!" (nobody wants to appear like a pansy and particularly not on
a date). As soon as I learnt that a) he was a consultant and b) he was Austrian
and from Salzburg, I should have known better and run in the opposite
direction, but instead I stayed and endured the worst date ever.
This guy did not know how
to make conversation (which was, by the way totally in German and he never once
offered to switch to English despite being fluent in English himself). There
was never a reciprocated question or show of interest in anything I had to say.
It went a little like this:
Me: Do you have any
siblings?
Marathon Man: Yes, a sister
*silence* *awkward pause*
*run 10 minutes more*
Me: What do you do, do you
enjoy your job or travel a lot?
Marathon Man: I'm a
consultant. I really enjoy it. I travel quite a bit but luckily not as much as
other firms so it's not too stressful.
*silence* *awkward pause*
*run 10 minutes more*
He. Never. Asked. Me.
Anything. About. Myself. NOTHING. Oh wait sorry, he did ask me something:
What's your quickest
half-marathon time?
Which means he didn't
listen to me five minutes before when I was telling him that I was training for
my first two half marathons ever in a few weeks. *sigh* He then proceeded to
tell me all about his quickest times, where the races were and his tactic to
get quicker. All the while I was thinking "you're attractive, but somebody
pass me a spoon so I can gouge my eyes out because that would be more enjoyable
than another minute of this date". Why are German guys so obsessed with
sport? And I mean really obsessed. I'm a sporty person and it's even too much
for me. They don't just do a run, they do a marathon. When they've done a
marathon they do mountain marathons. Then they do a triathlon just for kicks.
Then they take their hiking to the next level and climb Everest – like you do.
I don't think you have to be a genius to work out the one thing that a lot of
the guys aren't managing to achieve despite all of their sporting endeavours...Give
me a man that will happily munch on a Maccy D any day over a German fitness
freak.
After running 50 minutes
instead of 40 minutes (so already running further and faster than planned) we
arrived back at our starting point. At this moment, instead of accompanying me
back to the U-Bahn, he declares, "Actually, I think that I'm going to
carry on running and go a bit further. Not sure I got my full workout".
Translation: asshole. I took it as a rejection but then was shocked as he asked
for my number. My number? Strange, I thought the date had gone poorly for both
of us, as he seemed so uninterested. However, for some reason I was still
hovering between whether he was an arrogant git or merely socially challenged
and decided to give him the pleasure of obtaining my digits – and with it, a
second-chance.
Mistake. Date 2 debrief to follow soon...
