The Crazy German (2015)

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The red flags, oh the red flags…

Yes, it has finally come! My new post. For months I have been thinking that it wasn’t such a big deal I stopped posting. I mean I am still single – of course. I haven’t really had anything super worthwhile to write about. I have been going crazy over my channel and trying to get it as famous as possible so I can finally be location independent, work from anywhere and hopefully have more success in finding the man of my dreams than in freezing Toronto with its equally lifeless robot people who barely exchange eye contact with each other.

Until, today I stumbled into my junk mail and realized with a shock that I had messages upon messages of support, personal stories and touching words. When I abandoned blogging for my channel, I thought that my page would soon lose its flow and grow weeds, and when I discovered all your messages I told myself that no matter what – I will continue writing more stories. Actually, I would do it right away… or a few hours later. So, I took out my laptop and here is my semi-latest story.

A couple of months ago, I realized I needed a break. I realize it all the time. Actually I always need a break. Don’t we all? Some of my girlfriends don’t think they are entitled to one due to work or school, but all I ever think about is lying on the hammock on the beach, not going to yet another club, lounge, bar and feeling bored and restless, which is how I feel a lot lately.

miamiLong story short, I ended up in Miami with a German girlfriend Marta, who I met while backpacking in Argentina. That night her and I went to the cheesiest club of all “Mango’s” and had our two other hostel roommates join. As soon as we walked in men surrounded us like prey. I guess they sniffed out fresh blood of newly arrived foreigners. I managed to break free from the grasp of a puny and sweaty Chilean guy before he managed to kiss me and went to watch the show, wondering how I was going to get home now that all of the girls were occupied.

Just at the moment when I was getting bored of standing in the corner watching a Michael Jackson show, I saw an enormously tall, blond and built guy coming into the club. He was joined by a much shorter bright blond man (who might I add looked just like he stepped out from a Nazi movie!) As someone who has an unhealthy obsession with the Germans as caused by my very first experience, I got excited and tried to get close to them. Finally, I did something I would probably not do back home. But as you know, we are at our best and riskiest self outside our comfort zone.

I touched the Nazi lookalike on the arm as he walked by me and asked, rather stated. “You are German, right?” He stopped in his tracks and asked me “Why do you sink vy are

mango's

Mango’s insanity. The cheesiest club in all of Miami.

German?” What a difficult question, indeed. He was really intrigued so we talked for a bit. He went off to find his friend and as I went around the club, I ran right into both of them chatting to Marta, who was standing right by the tall friend. As soon as he noticed me, he stopped the conversation with her and introduced himself to me excitedly.

Hanz was a teacher from some village in Bavaria and he was on a sabbatical to travel the world. He was staying one more day and then he was off to Asia, lucky bastard. He looked like a very German basketball player with a cute face and an incredible physique.  He was just my type. Physically, at least, because I wouldn’t say we had some great connection or anything. He was trying hard to give me backhanded compliments, to be funny and to challenge me every step of the way. Marta thought he was a full of it asshole.

“You know!” she told me with her harsh tone which she used most of the time. One time when we were late to return the bikes she yelled “Vy are late!” so much that I actually got terrified.  She could sound like a lieutenant sometimes. “You know. I found your German attractive at first. But zen! Zen I realized he was an idiot!” Of course, I knew she was into him so I took her harsh comments with a huge grain of salt.

There was something so endearing about him waiting for me in the crowded dance floor as I came back from getting water. He was just waiting there, unsure in what to do and as I touched him on the back, he turned around with a child-like smile, excited I came back.

As we danced, he bent all the way down to be at level with me, kissing my forehead and I closed my eyes against him, feeling so content I actually felt sorry for myself. I was so tired of being alone. So tired of fooling myself that these flings would lead to anything. I was no longer after an exciting time, a fun and memorable adventure. I wanted a future. I have always wanted a future, but now it was clearer than ever. I missed the security of someone hugging me close, of being next to me. A feeling of a strong man I could lean against – physically and emotionally. I danced with my eyes closed. I wanted to savour the feeling of it. We kissed and kissed and danced some more.

At the end of our night, he told me he regretted meeting me so close to the end of his trip. He wished he could have spent more time with me, because I was just his type.  As much as it disappointed me as well, I knew we at least had one more day left. One more day to let him fall for me, to possibly continue into something more. Who knew? I was always open for a chance like this. These were the only chances I got. I was always meeting someone on vacation and falling for them. It always ended up in something. I don’t know if I was attracting this, but it was a repeat of my life.

“I would invite you back” He told me “but I’m staying in a hostel…”

“Who said I would go back with you?” I asked him playfully. “I can be kissing you the whole night and it means nothing else.”

“I like that you have standards” he said. He seemed to be fully into me, or as much as he could have been after one evening together.

As soon as I got back to the hostel, my phone pinged with a message from him. Marta iphone-messages-eraser-1542301climbed onto my bunk and we whispered girlishly: a 30 year old me and a 35 year old her – two idiots who really yearned for love. Hanz wanted to see me tomorrow, but mentioned he would love to get a hotel room. I wasn’t planning on sleeping with him, but even if I were I wouldn’t want it to be so open, so out on the table. It was much too programmed for me.

The next day, he texted me good morning. The guy was clearly hooked, but at this point all I could see was that he was hooked on having a good night. Having just come back from Latin America, I’m sure this blond Trojan man would have zero problems getting women. I’ve lived in Latin America. I know what the blond hair and European passport would do to a woman. This made me even more wary.

latins

Hola! De donde eres, guapo?

Hanz mentioned that he was going to a basketball game but would love to meet after. He was still set on the hotel, but I wouldn’t budge. I told him that if he wanted to see me, he would make it happen without a promise of sex. As we went out that night, I was not mentally there at the party. I kept on trying to get wifi signal (even going so far as running across the street to a taco place), glancing at my cell phone every two minutes and letting all conversations drift past me in a haze. Finally, he texted me back and told me that they were back at the hostel and wouldn’t be able to go as far as our neighborhood. However, he surely would be glad to book a hotel for us.

Again, the damn hotel.

seduction

Did you say “affordable”?

Apparently, the hotel would be ‘much more affordable’ if it were booked in advance. German logic indeed. Affordable is the most seductive word, is it not? How can a woman not fall to her knees at the word affordable, right? Also, if throes of passion came upon us or in his words “If we became hot and bothered” we would find no ‘affordable’ hotel in Ocean Drive at night! Gasp. Hey ladies – want passion in dating a German? You got it! Affordable is the key! Book ahead and the passion is at your feet.

It is not to say that I haven’t considered having sex that night. It’s been a while, I was really attracted to him and my skin has been so bad lately, apparently good sex would clear it up a bit. I’m not joking, I read that somewhere and actually narrated it to my roommates who looked at me like I was slow in the head. Anyways, why not? But the point is even though Marta proudly produced some terrible condoms and handed them to me for later and that I was really starting to consider it, I could not for the life of me have such a pre-planned evening, where the man did not spend one minute on actually seducing me, on talking to me, on taking advantage of the beautiful Florida scenery but right away booking the hotel. It felt cheap and predictable.

I suggested over and over that we meet, talk and then possibly I would agree to it. I made it so, so easy and even then he did not want to meet unless I gave him a warranty that meeting with me would equal to sex (or money back guarantee). And just because I tell you everything, I will admit that at one point I almost succumbed. I wanted a chance to stop a taxi, slip away from this terrible party and drive up to where he was waiting for me. It almost seemed romantic. That is until Marta ripped the phone away from me and hissed “You are not doing zat! Are you CRAZY!? He should put the effort.” Of course. This was the girl, that once told me to dump the guy because he didn’t buy me a drink in South America. But she was right. I was losing my sense of self here. My pride. Once again my desire to feel something beautiful was really me heading off to bed with yet another 2 day guy. Tomorrow he would be off booking hotel rooms in Asia. Probably more affordable ones, too.

So, I changed my mind and stayed at the party. At first I said “screw it” and danced my heart out. Then I cried my heart out. Let me just say – I wasn’t fun for anyone that night, least of all myself.

When we got back to the hostel, I realized that he had been writing to me. Even though we never met, he still couldn’t stop. He was angry at himself, at us for not meeting. He regretted missing the chance to be with me. He was questioning why we let it all slip away. I was sick of going round and round as my whole night has already been ruined by him so I wished him a good night.

Yet, even the next day as he was leaving back to Germany he kept on writing me. He couldn’t believe it. If we could have, should have, would have.. If we just had… If, if, if…

Once back in Germany, he wouldn’t stop. I was his type. I was the woman he was dreaming of. He might have been stupid in being so organized, but he couldn’t help it. The poor lad was German. It was in his blood. He was crazy for me. He couldn’t stop admiring my photos. He regretted everything.

And I let him continue writing that. I’m a very soft girl and when I fall for someone I can ignore all the red flags. In this case – there were so many red flags I could have re-built communist Russia. I still imagined that, who knew? Maybe I was the woman of his dreams. But how could I be? He met me once for two hours. Not only that, he failed to spend time with me had it not been on his terms. He didn’t want to have a romantic evening with me if it didn’t lead to sex. This was not an ideal no matter how you twisted it.

He didn’t stop writing for a few weeks he was back in Germany. At the end, I got enough of the round and round talking of could haves and should haves and told him that had he wanted to see me, he could come to Canada and stop wondering what if. He laughed it off and said he had no time before going to Asia.

But at the end, it got too much. He would always comment on my appearance and talk nothing of substance and when I called him out on it, he got angry and said he wouldn’t do it again. This perfect looking guy with happy traveling photos on Facebook and an array of friends seemed quite troubled. Getting angry when I wouldn’t answer back to him, sending me enormous text messages and arguing like he was my husband of 5 years – all of this had to stop.

The best was when he decided to send me videos of himself singing. Apparently, apart from a teacher he was also a ‘musician’ who made his own original videos. One was of him dressed as the devil and the other of him dancing with a mannequin. When I told my friend this story over sushi, she told me “Man, Mia. You have to start writing about your crazy stories.” Ha!

Hanz is still traveling Asia and has stopped writing to me for now. I have a feeling he will somehow reappear in my life and finally get around to booking that hotel. Of insanity. At least he will have enough time to book an affordable one.

Do you have stories of mentally unstable men you have met? Share them below!

 

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12 thoughts on “The Crazy German (2015)

  1. I have a slightly unstable Russian that I met the last few weeks when i was studying abroad last summer. He’s a police officer that helped me figure out the metro one night when my friends drunkenly abandoned me at a bar and he was amazing for the three [ incredible, not gonna lie 😉 ] dates we had together but literally, nearly a year on he’ll randomly after a month of silence write me novel sized paragraphs on whatsapp that vary between “I love you, I cannot see life without you…when can I see you again?” to “I’m coming to you. You cannot stop what is between us, it is fate of the cosmos.” or something weird like that but he’s never coming here. One time his mom AND sisters messaged me and told me I need to be with him because it was unfair to steal his heart and do nothing with it even though I’ve told him again and again we were never going to work and I’ve dated other guys since who evidently “don’t matter because they are not him”. If you have any tips on Russian stalker boys, I’m happy to hear them! I’m supposedly receiving something on 8 March that will “warm my heart” so we’ll see. [I never gave him my address either…so literally, we’ll see if it gets to me]

    (also, do you have a link to your vlog? I’d love to see it! Your blog is awesome!)

    • Haha! As a Russian, I can tell you this is not normal behavior. Yes, Russian men tend to be quite direct and shower you with attention if you date them. But they are not the type to write things like that. Especially for the fact that this guy writes a lot but doesn’t make any move. If you had three amazing days, why not actually come and visit? Have you tried inviting him over? What’s his excuse? If he keeps on writing this stuff but doesn’t plan on coming over, tell him it’s a waste of time for you. Thank you for the compliment! It’s not a Vlog – it’s a different kind of channel, but for sure. Will send it to you. 🙂

  2. Oh Mia, thank you so much for posting a new entry! About a German, no less 🙂 You have my gratitude. Yes, please never abandon this site!

    I always wonder about things like this, where two people are interested in each other, but each person is waiting for the other to “give a little more first.” I know that Germans are generally very goal-oriented, so he only wants to hang out if you put out (that rhymed haha) makes sense in a strange way. It’s definitely not attractive for ladies, but I UNDERSTAND where he is coming from. And who knows, he may have developed feelings for you after. BUT – I still agree that coming from Northern American culture, it feels really distasteful to feel like you have to guarantee sex.

    My college roommmate (girl) was dating a new guy, and they would always split the bill in the beginning. She was not happy about that but wanted to keep an open mind. After they became “official”/”exclusive,” he would always insist on paying, because according to him, now she’s in his “inner circle.” Maybe German men are the same way. But still, when it comes to SEX, nothing makes the girl feel cheap than making her promise sex 😛

    Like you, I come from a world (California) where guys go a little more out of their way, at least in the beginning. It’s a courtesy thing. But the more I know, the more I have

    • Thanks C! Will definitely keep writing. It’s always great to get comments like yours and it makes me want to write more. Many hugs from cold Canada to warm California!

  3. Thank you for not abandoning the blog! I found it last year and really enjoyed reading your stories, and then ran out stories to read! I’m British, but I prefer foreign men to British men. British men are terrible at flirting with women (at least I think so), and can only approach you after a few pints of beer. But European men just know what they want. When they find someone attractive, they’ll grab the opportunity and try their best. Although, they can sometimes be too pushy and can’t understand the word ‘no’.

    Have I met someone mentally unstable? Plenty, haha. But I can only think of the last guy I hooked up with.

    So I was in Tenerife (Spanish Island) this year with my friend. I wasn’t looking to hook with anyone. I just wanted to chill out and forget about work. On the first night I met this bartender. I could tell he was already interested in me, because you know when they have that look in their eyes? Plus, he kept trying to impress me with this trick by throwing a bottle behind his back and catching it… He kept failing, bless him.

    Every time we returned to the bar each night, someone would always say to me ‘you know that bartender? He likes you!’ Halso gave me and my friend free cocktails, so that was a bonus.

    One day I looked at him and thought, yeah, he’s pretty cute. I’m giving him my number. So I did. He then invited me to festival that was happening on the island, so I said hell yeah! This is going to be fun.

    I thought he was Spanish, but it turned out he was actually from Venezuela! He moved to Tenerife eight years ago for a ‘better life’. I never met someone from South America, so it was pretty exciting.

    I met up with him after midnight to attend the festival. My friend who I travelled with decided to go back to hotel as she didn’t feel like going. I remembered how he grabbed my hand and led me to this festival, saying stuff like, ‘I really like you! I was so happy when you gave me your number, didn’t think you was interested!’

    We kissed. We danced. I wanted to sleep with him as the night went on, so we took a taxi back to his flat.

    After we had sex (we did it a few times, haha) I was drunk and falling asleep in his bed.

    Then he started talking.

    “S, why do you have to leave in two days? Can’t you extend your flight to next week?”

    “I can’t, I have work…”

    “But WHY!”

    “I have to work… I can’t just tell them I’m staying in Tenerife instead?”

    “Look, I’m in love with you.”

    The fuck? “You don’t know me, though…”

    He ignored me. “I just don’t understand why you can’t move to Tenerife and stay with me?”

    “Uh…”

    “And listen, I get so jealous at the thought of you being with other guys. I just want you to myself.”

    “I, uh… Not really sure what to say to that.”

    “I love you.”

    I was too tired to run away from him, so I patted his arms and said, “sure.” Honestly, it was eight in the morning and I was drunk… All I wanted to do was sleep. His bed was comfy too. In another situation, I would have made my excuses and ran off but…. Sleep.

    “And you can call me your boyfriend, it’s okay to do that.”

    After I returned from England, I decided to research men from his country. I found out couple of things about them:

    1) they cheat on their girlfriends… A lot.
    2) they are very intense with women. They’ll literally declare their love as soon as you kiss them.

    To me, he seemed mental. A British guy can barely display his emotion to girls, yet this South American was literally declaring his love for me. Was he crazy? I honestly don’t know. Maybe someone from Venezuela can give me some insight. Is this behaviour normal for men who are from Venezuela?

    Anyway, Mia, keep up the good work. I really do love your blog.

    • That is a priceless, PRICELESS story! :))) I actually could envision his face when he asked “But WHY?” Yes, Venezuelans can come on very strong and I hate generalizing (but hey, I do it all the time) and yes, they are a pretty unfaithful lot. My friend lived with a guy who was cheating on her and when she caught him he had the audacity to say “How about you calm down, cook me some chicken and then we can talk?” So, yes…
      Of course, I’m sure there are some great Venezuelan guys. I know a few personally, but a bartender working on the beach and telling you he loves you? Not one of them.

  4. Hey Mia, im really glad you’re back!! I wanted to say that I love your blog and I can completely relate to the red flags thing, especially after dating a mentally unstable guy a few months ago. Really interested in seeing your youtube channel– could you forward me the link? Thanks!

    • Thanks Maeve! Yes, I’m back.. but still find it hard to find stories since I’m the one that has to experience them. If you subscribe to my Youtube, you will definitely see much more of me as I post weekly! I will send it now to your email 😉

  5. Hello Mia! I looove your blog, I’m so happy you’re back 🙂 I wanted to ask you, can I check out your youtube channel? Would love to follow you there as well! xoxo Nat

    • Thank you. Will send it over. I definitely stopped writing as much as I did as I’m solely focused on the channel, so I’m sure you’ll enjoy it 😀

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