dating column
If you are wondering why you, your child or some friends are still single, then I have the answer. Dating these days is like finding a good apple in a box of rotten ones. Which brings us to the eco-rag man.
Hamburg, February, rain, cold, windy: short bah! Although I could have written ten other months here instead of February, in which the northern Hanseatic city always has the same weather. Even the temperatures vary only minimally. Weather conditions in which you don’t want to slide through the park on a first date, but instead meet up for a hot chocolate in a café. But on the date with the eco-rag man nothing was hot apart from the chocolate.
From the parking lot, which actually should have been gilded if you look at the parking ticket prices, I fought my way through wind and weather like in a movie to a café. We had agreed on a date via Tinder, not realizing that Poseidon was sailing back to Hamburg that day, as if the good guy had a prostate problem. After folding down the umbrella three times, I was actually served by the North German wind when I arrived. With my back to the locality’s window, I shook the bastard out and folded it up. Then I turned and saw my date standing on one leg in the middle of a brightly lit cafe. He staggered while trying to get off a pair of rain pants, almost knocking down the nearest table, which was filled with two bewildered women.
“Holy shit”I thought. The guy is now please not a teacher in rain pants. Again in my dating career, I contemplated a quick escape. But then in a tenth of a second he turned, saw me and smiled. Fuck. What if I run for my life now like in a cartoon with a cloud of dust standing still? Again I didn’t. So I went inside. In the meantime he had gotten rid of the rain pants with a final, epileptic leg twitch. Excitedly, Tim held out a wet hand to me. “Hi, I’m Tim, but you can also call me Timmi.” Jesus Maria I am looking for a man not a child.
Dating: The guy apparently thought my melons were ecologically correct
We sat down at a small table in the darkest corner and started talking. My eyes darted around hoping no one saw me. His eyes were nervous, and the ordering process seemed to be pushing him to his limits. With excitement he started to stutter a bit. However, he barely met my eyes. His eyes were glued to my breasts like his rain pants were glued to his ankles a few minutes ago. Raindrops kept falling from his forehead over his temples. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and hastily wiped it away.
The conversation was difficult. I quickly realized that we weren’t on the same level at all. He was a self-confessed eco-fanatic. He spent his free time at Fridays for Future, he cycled all the way, even to Ikea, and for dinner he liked to eat soya slices, which he first soaked in order to be able to process them. Then he pulled the rag out of his pocket again to pat his forehead again. Slowly but surely I realized it couldn’t still be the rain from outside, the guy was sweating with excitement and had a sweat rag with him. As I focused on my Sherlock Holmes sweat analysis, I noticed he was still shaking and the coffee in his hand was almost spilling over. He didn’t notice me examining him, he was still or already had his eyes on my breasts. Conspicuously, I stroked my stem several times and said: “Do I have something there, Krümel?”. Whereupon the eco-Hansel also replied: “No, there’s nothing there”, but still didn’t raise his eyes.
As a joke, I became an AfD voter in Müllbergen on the date
After further ecotum manifestos, I made fun of it and verbally formed an anti-attitude. I demonized everything. Told him that I loved driving 200 km/h on the Autobahn, threw away groceries after a day, always left the lights on, constantly jetted back and forth by plane, didn’t separate the garbage and thought the political orientation of the AfD was wonderful . (Now please don’t think that’s my attitude). I just really wanted to turn him off. The man who kept looking at me as if I was his favorite porn star in live nodded and said, “Maybe we can learn from each other”. Uff. Not even I, as an eco-antichrist, helped to ward off the sweating pollution reducer, who had hardly any blood left in his head. That’s when I drew my last card: “You know, I’m not even compostable anymore, I’m so unecologically correct as a human being”. Not realizing that I was cutting one of his favorite topics: “It doesn’t matter. It’s funny that you say that, I actually want to be composted after I die. I want to be reborn as a cucumber. It’s my dream that my wife will then as a cucumber and I become a part of it”.
Then he got up and went to the toilet as if on cue. As soon as he was out of sight, I ran for my life. The cartoon cloud of dust must have clouded the table like it did in China. I’ve never been so happy that I was driving my car in Hamburg’s dreadful weather and didn’t flee with rain pants and a bicycle.
The stories in this dating column all happened in real life. I certainly haven’t experienced all of them myself, there are also contributions from colleagues, friends and acquaintances among them, but they are all worth telling.
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Source: Stern
I am a 24-year-old writer and journalist who has been working in the news industry for the past two years. I write primarily about market news, so if you’re looking for insights into what’s going on in the stock market or economic indicators, you’ve come to the right place. I also dabble in writing articles on lifestyle trends and pop culture news.
