Guys around the Globe. Chloe G. Wilde

a relationship. Too bad I mean what I say. Well, most of the time. I deleted him from my life, and two days later I got another text in which he wanted to know whether I was doing better and that he hoped we’d stay in touch. My only reply was that he was obviously crackers, which he blessed with an “ok”.

      But it wasn’t over yet, because for the next 1.5 months we were off and on. You might wonder why (and I’m still wondering myself), but the only explanation I have is that the sex was actually very good with him. And it might have gone on longer if it hadn’t been for his asshole behavior and sudden mood changes, for his arrogant episodes. During these episodes he’d bitch about the country he was living in and where he was making a great living (the country of my ancestors), to him Balkans were all stupid monkeys and golddiggers. It’s not like he’s stupid, far from it, certainly no IQ issues there, only some serious EQ deficiencies. I’m not even sure if I would describe him as merely ignorant, but he does have some sort of mental condition, if you ask me. But what to expect from a person who claims at the age of 42 that he learned everything he knows from Asterix and Obelix. Another equally as irritating statement was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back and set a new record: the quickest quarrel and subsequent breakup ever.

      We had just started out on a day trip to the coast, he was once again in his ‘I am-a-superior-Arian’ mood and was trashing what is essentially my country. The night before a friend had organized a champagne tasting party at her place, and as Freak and I hit the road that morning, he asked me how last night had been. So I started telling him how we had tried out Serbian and Russian champagne, to which Fritzl replied immediately that it was typical once again how Balkan women referred to anything bubbly as champagne, how they have no idea what genuine champagne is, bla, bla, bla… Basically the same old crap all over again.

      First I reminded him how he himself had referred to some weird Austrian bubbly as champagne, and I was about to bring up the Dom Perignon incident, but rather chose to counter using his own weapon, namely blatant generalization. I told him that all Austrians are narrow-minded and have a limited horizon. I have no idea what had possessed him that morning (and thankfully, I’ll never know), whether he was being a complete dick because he didn’t want to go to the coast, but he retorted immediately that we should cancel the trip, that he’d turn around and drive me back home, which I deemed a great idea.

      I was seething and couldn’t stand to be around him any longer, so at the next red light I told him that Balkan women also knew how to ride a tram and got out in the middle of the road. The new record set here was the fact that this entire fight took place over a stretch of road of no more than 1.5km! We had just embarked on our trip and managed to end this mindfuck within 10 minutes. Not bad, huh?

      And this is how little wimpy aquarius tried to tame the bull, but little did he accomplish. Honestly, there is nothing worse than some moron who acts like a child who didn’t get his favorite lollipop. I’m not being arrogant here, but I’ve been around, I’ve lived in many different places and I’ve seen a lot, so for some little Austrian country boy to start playing games with me and to think that he can get me that way is simply pathetic. I did feel sorry for him many times and I gave him a number of chances, but then I’d remember some of his stupid, derogative comments and I would be no longer sorry. Or I’d remember his pathetic attempts to impress me by promising me a ride in a Porsche or by announcing that he would buy me Louboutin heels for my birthday. Nice gesture, right? That’s what I thought until he added that he would buy them because he was a big fan of ‘bed shoes’, which is Austrian pampa slang for ultra-high heels, and that he wanted to see me in them. All of this might fly with some dumb little maiden from some alpine pasture, and with his kind of attitude he needs to find himself some Heidi who is willing to hang out with him in the Alps, where they can jointly bitch about all those inferior people around them. Amen.

      Overall opinion: German guys are quite emancipated, which I like, but in terms of passion and humor they have as much to offer as a celery stick. Needless to say that I’m not too impressed. And I am not too impressed by the memory that many German guys make you pay for your own drinks on dates.

      As for Austrians in particular: Please name one sane Austrian you know. It’s not that easy, is it? Freud was Austrian, but considering the vast amounts of cocaine he used, he’d be more known for rehab visits than for his couch today. Schwarzenegger? No comment. Alright, there were a few good composers, but I am not surprised that this culture produced monsters such as Fritzl, for example.