solitude

I WOKE UP, GOT DRESSED, BRUSHED MY TEETH AND WENT HOME

It was a Friday evening lost somewhere in mid-April. The weather was surprisingly warm, with light breeze caressing the hair and softly touching the cheeks. The skies were vanilla as the sun was about to set. The air was soft and warm, filled with the smell of fresh lawn and leaves. I could hear children laughing somewhere at a distance, playing with purling water by the fountain. Time was standing still.

It felt like summer was finally here. Such weather always makes me feel wistful and nostalgic, making me want to go back, but I don't know where to, or why. Can one be nostalgic for something, which hasn't happened yet?
Time has an awkward way of flowing so quickly, yet somehow so slowly, when you are lying on the ground, studying the skies. It is as if each glimpse is both instant and eternal, and you are caught just in-between. You would give up everything just to stay that way forever, and yet you know you can't.

It turned dark, and eventually I did get up, with no real place to go to, or any other purpose whatsoever. I decided just to roam aimlessly through the city streets, wherever they may take me. I wondered what was Vienna like back in the time when carriages were riding on these narrow streets of cobblestone, taking their passengers to theatres and balls. Were people better back then? Were they wearing their masks only to the masquerades?

The streets eventually brought me to a bar. Someone once said that the truth lies at the bottom of the bottle, but I've been there enough times to know that there's nothing there but sorrow and despair. And a hang-over. I asked a barman for a gin-tonic. "Ah, a gin-tonic. Very conservative" - was a comment from a girl sitting next to me. I wasn't instantly attracted to that girl. But there was something... damaged, something fractured about her that somehow drew me closer. Or maybe I was just looking at myself in the mirror?

Girl: What's your name?
- Let's not spoil the moment by asking each other's names. Besides, the night is young
Girl: Hah, fair enough. So hello, stranger. What do you do?
- I am a garbage man. Wearing orange uniform, going around - collecting garbage. You probably have seen me around.
Girl: Must be a fulfilling job...
- Oh, you have no idea. I love doing something for the people, for the environment, you know. What about you?
Girl: Oh, I am a princess.
- Must be a fulfilling job.
Girl: You have no idea...
- I could imagine. So basically your job is to be around and to be pretty. You are also doing it for the people around you, just like me. I think our jobs are actually pretty similar.
Girl: Yeah, absolutely.
- A garbage man and a princess - I think this is a beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Girl: Cheers to that.
- So, princess, would you like to dance?
Girl: Let's go

She was wearing white jeans and a checkered blue short-sleeved shirt. Her straight brown hair was barely touching her shoulders. I took her hand into mine and led her to the dance floor, where almost no one was dancing. She didn't seem to mind. Neither did I.

I put my hands around her waist, and she put hers on my shoulders. She was almost as tall as me, and just as thin. I felt her body tremble slightly when I touched her waist, but she just smiled shyly and continued dancing. After a while I pulled her closer to me, and our bodies touched. I was able to smell her perfume. She smelled so... familiar. I was looking her in the eyes and she was looking back in mine. Then I gazed at her lips and she did the same. Then we kissed. I brushed the hair away from her forehead and gently moved my fingertips along her cheek and touched the corner of her lips. She closed her eyes, and I felt her shivering lightly. Then I kissed her again.

- Would you like to go?

She said yes. We walked out of the bar, holding hand in hand, and caught a cab. Before I was able to say anything, she already told her address to the driver and we took off. We were sitting on the opposite sides of the car, occasionally gazing at each other. When she was looking through the window, I gently moved my fingertips along her shoulder to her hand and said "Hi" and smiled. She then moved closer, kissed me and put her head on my shoulder, while holding my hand.

Soon we arrived at her place. I don't remember the street name or the number, but it was somewhere in the 18th. I paid for the cab and we walked through the front door of a typical Vienna "Altbau". It was damp and cold inside. She took my hand and led the way. Her apartment was on the 3rd floor. She opened the door and told me to make myself at home, while offering me pink fluffy slippers. She took the blue ones. Bitch.

She went into the bathroom and I walked into her room. It was a 2-room apartment with a small kitchen. Straight away I could tell it was a girl's apartment. It smelled of a mixture of her perfume, facial cream, shampoo and make-up. The air was thick, as if you could cut it with a knife. But I liked it, and felt comfortable and safe.

I walked into her bedroom. There was a couch in the middle, which she used as a shelf, a desk with chair, a wardrobe, a TV and her small bed. The couch was full of her clothes mixed with books. There were also several books on the desk, together with a laptop and some pictures. The books were on Austrian legislation, so she must have been a law student, most likely in the middle of her studies. The pictures were with her little sister and her parents. She was barely smiling in any of them. She must have really loved her family, and now she misses them, while studying here in Vienna all alone. On the shelves next to the desk there were some flowers and a bunch of souvenirs from various places she'd been to. On the wall behind the desk she stuck postcards from all over the world. Most of them were from Paris.

She got out of the bathroom when I said I needed a go as well. After getting out I saw her leaning back on her bed, sitting on one leg and barely touching the floor with the other. I walked towards her and leaned in for a kiss. She put her hands around my neck and pulled me towards her, rubbing her legs against mine.

I started to slowly unbutton her shirt, while looking in her eyes. I was obsessed with her eyes, I was drowning in them. Dark green, with a slight touch of gray, they were deep and thoughtful, and naive and innocent all at once.

She had a small birthmark near her navel. Her slightly pale skin was velvet and very, very soft. I lied next to her and gently moved my fingers from her hip over her waist to her breast, then her neck, her chin and her cheek. She closed her eyes and her breath hastened. I was able to hear and feel her heart beating so rapidly.

We had sex three times that night. Afterwards she put her head on my chest and hugged me. I was moving my fingertips slowly along her face until we both fell asleep until morning...

- Hello, stranger.
Girl: Hi.
She smiled and was leaning towards me.
- So, what is your name?
Girl: Hah, let's not spoil the morning by telling each other's names. It's only just morning.
- Well princess, I really have to go.
Girl: No, don't. Please stay.
- I can't, I'm sorry, I have some stuff to do, I really do. Tell you what, I am going to write my phone number over here, and I would like you to call me tomorrow. Call me tomorrow.

She never did.

XOXO

solitude

Over-analyzing, overly critical feminist - I think you and I - we might just get along. Thank you for your comment and for the good wishes. I get along just fine, market conditions are improving and we see bright future ahead of us (not for Greece though, they are a mess). But my German is rusty. Very rusty.

Sadly however, you got the wrong picture (I knew I wasn't very good at painting). As I said, I am not seeking advice, but rather an explanation. You have mentioned girls going out, getting the gazes and enjoying the power. What power would that be exactly? This is what I want to get into - your heads (well, not only), how you girls think. Have you ever considered that this is actually lack of power, rather than its presence? Simply because there are so many beautiful girls out there, especially in good clubs. The only time the girl has the power over a man is when there actually is a relationship. That way the guy is often times scared to lose what he has and is afraid of being left alone. There are tons of examples how girls abuse this power times and times again (the same is true for guys by the way, so not being a sexist here (well, may be just a little bit)). What happens in reality is both the girl and the guy going home sad and lonely, not gaining anything. Obviously you wouldn't want some drunken looser approaching you and making ridiculous comments, but you can see these guys from a mile. What about the guy you actually like?

NO I DON'T WANT YOUR NUMBER

The story occurred with my friend about two weeks back, but almost identical stories happened to me at least 6 times now (not that I keep track... well actually I do). In other words - too many times to ignore - trying to see a pattern here.

Starbucks in front of the opera. One of my favorite places here in the city. When shops close and tourists flee to their hotels, a rather pleasant crowd remains. Mostly young educated people. A laptop is an absolute must. I actually thought they didn't allow you to get in unless you had a laptop with you. You just can't use your pc at home - it has to be in starbucks. No matter what you do - write your thesis, play minesweeper or watch porn - it has to be done in starbucks. It's probably what the term "American dream" means to Viennese people.

It was a Saturday night. Me and my friend usually gather there around 20:00 and our big game (well, I actually prefer thin girls) hunt begins. We sat down at a table on the second floor. My friend spotted a girl sitting alone on the couch reading a book. A girl sitting alone on the couch reading (READING!) a book on a Saturday evening

a) doesn't have a boyfriend
b) definitely doesn't have a boyfriend
c) is depressive
d)is desperate
e) is suicidal
f) all of the above

She was not at all bad looking, so my friend approaches.

- Your couch looks a lot more comfortable than my chair, so I am sitting next to you.
Girl: Hi! Sure. Where are you from?

From there the conversation flowed smoothly and naturally as if they had known each other for years. The girl wasn't able to see me, but I was able to see her and hear about 2/3 of the conversation. Boy, was she hungry. From the first minute she was so much into my friend. Leaning towards him, smiling, laughing at his jokes, playing with her hair, with the medallion on her neck. It gave me joy to observe them, as if they were a young couple hopelessly in love with their whole lives in front of them. About 30% of the time the girl was laughing and giggling.

After about 20 minutes my friend remembered that he left me alone, so he decided to end the conversation there and move on to another location.

- Well, I have to get going. I am meeting my friends in 15 minutes and we are going out. It was really great talking to you.

Girl: Wait, I want you to take my number.

- Well, I am not so sure, what if you are actually a weird stalker, who will be calling me every 10 minutes?

Girl: Oh, c'mon take my number

- Slow down there, how about you give me your e-mail or facebook? A much safer bet.

Girl: Ok, but promise to write! Here, I'm gonna write it down. Can you read this? Are you sure? Ok, wait, I'll write it again, more clearly.

- Well alright then, it was really great talking to you and I'll drop you a line these days. Take care.

Me and my friend both left the cafe and he was truly happy because he really liked that girl. After 2 days he wrote her a letter, she replied after a couple of days, he tried to take invite her on a date twice after that, both times she declined. Last e-mail he sent her she ignored and haven't replied since. Why?

XOXO

Solitude

SINKY
You don't have to worry, I am not gonna tell you a pack of lies to make me look good. I am just gonna tell you what happened - Yuri Orlov, Lord of War

I am an investment banker in my early (at least I am strongly inclined to believe so) twenties. Mid-twenties sounds a bit too... old. Graduated from the university (with honors) (almost) not so long ago and have been working over the past several years here in Vienna. I believe the marketing term would be a YUPPY (young urban professional), or DINKY (double income, no kinds yet). In my case, though, you might want to change that to a SINKY (single income), since that is what I am.
Now don't get me wrong - I am not here to complain about the complexity and injustice of life. I've had my fair share of that a while ago with a different target audience (rocks and trees mostly), but for this subject I decided to try something else. What I am really interested in is your opinion on the subjects and stories I am going to describe and depict over here. Oh, and I am also new to the whole blog thing, so don't sharpen your pitchforks and fire the torches just yet.

A few words about meself: up until recently (8 months, give or take) I have been, what many guys I see every day on the street are - a mess. Complete mess. My attitude was "I just couldn't be bothered" ("I just don't give a shit"), my hairstyle was "the same, but shorter, so that I don't have to go to the hairdresser anytime soon", my favorite clothes were jeans, shoes and a t-shirt. The same ones. Every day (I did wash them every now and then though). It's not that I didn't have or couldn't afford new clothes - it's like I said - I just couldn't be bothered.

This however has changed. There are only 2 things in a man's life - his job and his women (you might want to change that to singular, if it makes you feel more comfortable). Depending on the amount of certain liquids in a man's .... body, his preferences shift. Henry the VIII was certainly more interested in his women. So was Clinton. I graduated, got my dream job, and so I thought: "Hey, I want my other 50%!". So I did, what everyone does nowadays, when they want something, but don't know what to do. No - I didn't ask mom! I googled. Now everything less than an hour in the shower in the morning is "quick", I have more care products than my mom, and shopping twice a month is an absolute must.

And the funny thing is - it worked. Getting those smiles on the streets and in the clubs has never been easier. You know, the kind of smile, when you look at the guy a little bit longer, than what is considered socially acceptable. And then you quickly look away when your eyes meet, and pretend it never happened. Yup, that kind of smile. We've all done that. And it just feels so warm and fuzzy inside. Oh, and I also got my fair share of one-night-stands, but that's another story. This, however, isn't what I'm after, and it never was. I just realized that now. We are all searching for that special someone, and I am no exception.


PASSAGE
I hope you got the picture. The right picture. Enough about that, the story I want to share happened last Wednesday in passage. I just love passage. It's a place where people who

- want to be rich
- pretend to be rich
- want to be with someone who is rich and
-are tourists

go.

I would almost certainly be falling in the "tourists" category. In general, it's not a bad place, and the people are more or less sophisticated. I like to arrive early, when your ears are still not bleeding from the volume of the music, and when you can actually see who walks in the place. At that time - almost no one, but me and my best friend sitting at the bar and an old guy dancing in the middle of the dance floor alone.

Two girls walk in the club and sit in the alienated couch in the corner. After several seconds (ok, maybe slightly longer) I approach. One of the girls is nice, but the other one is the kind you would want to say the following to: "Hi, what's your name? Let's get married and have babies." And since I don't want to get married and have children, trust me - this line coming from me means a lot. She was bloody gorgeous, besides being funny, smart, having an amazing smile and studying to be a teacher. I thought not to rush it, take things a wee bit slower, and started with the following:
- Hey girls, I really need your help.
- Huh?
- Do you see that old guy dancing in the middle of the dance floor alone?
- Yeah?
- He is my grandpa, could you two make me a favor please? Could you go dance next to him. He hasn't touched a girl in 20 years.

They loved it. From there the conversation went on smoothly for about 5 minutes, then just before it was about to die, I eloquently excused myself with thoughts of reinitiating later. I went back to my friend, who was also busy with other ladies. During this whole time I was keeping my eyes on the girl, who in turn was keeping her eyes on me. Then they went to the bar and got themselves a drink. They got approached by 2 guys standing near them. I already knew what was going to happen, and it did. I was standing at the other bar in the club - observing, how the girl was getting bored by the minute. Looking at the sides, stretching her neck, nervously sipping her drink. And occasionally looking my way, giving me that "rescue me" look. I, however, was merciless and decided to punish her for not holding on to me by letting her suffer from the boring interrogation of the two guys. When the girls lost their patience and decided to neglect all their manners and good up-bringing, they turned their backs on the guys, who were so helplessly trying to be entertaining. I approached them again with a funny comment, which they also adored. Then again, after 5 minutes, just before the conversation would turn into an awkward silence, I removed myself, leaving them wanting more. Obviously I couldn't ask her for the number, since she wouldn't give it with her friend being around. So I had to wait for the right moment.

It's 22:30. On to the dance floor! Now, when I go out to a club - there is only one place in the whole club I dance at - right in the middle. Not that I am a particularly good dancer - I am just confident enough to do it. More people were starting to gather up around me. And what a surprise - the 2 girls happened to "accidentally" dance right next me. I moved slightly to the sides and - whaddya know - there they are again. I tried to somehow dance with them, but they stuck to each other and turned away each time I tried. When I was minding my own business, they reappeared next to me again. It happened for several times, until I got bored and left. I still got 3 phone numbers of different girls from that evening. But damn, I miss that smile...

MORAL
Before you rush into giving me advice how to pick-up a girl in a club - don't bother. I've done this too many times to know how it works. The reason I am actually writing this is to understand how YOU work, to get to know women and the mysterious creatures that they are a little bit better.

The reason I am writing this is the following: too many times have I seen a bunch of girls walk into a club. 2, 3 or 4 girls together, all looking good. 3-hours-in-front-of-the-mirror-good. A must-have check-list:

High heels - check
Short skirt - check
Dark mascara - check
Jewelry - check
Hairstyle she still was not sure about after 3 hours in front of the mirror - check
Fake nails - check
Perfume - check
Spare shoes - check
No underwear - check

These 2-3-4 girls walk into the club, go into the darkest, creepiest corner, stay there together for 4 hours, drink, dance together, then leave. WHY!? Why would any sane person on this planet spend so much time making herself look beautiful, go there, get away from the people, dance with the same 4 girls, then leave. For the love of all that is holy, please, please do not tell me they go out "just girls" just to have fun and don't care about the male population at all. Riiight... Why not make a pajama party? Why go to all this trouble? Obviously, because this isn't true. The question is - what do they expect? Do they expect a tall prince on a white (WHITE!) horse riding down inside the passage, getting through all those people, to the darkest, creepiest corner of the club, sweeping one of her off her feet (it has to be exactly that one girl, because she thinks she is just a little bit better than the rest of her friends) and riding with her back to Hoffburg? Do they really think that? From the looks of things - they actually do. But isn't this somehow counterproductive? What logic do they use? I am not going to get into the male/female logic discussion at this point, because it obviously won't get us far. But still - what are the underlying assumptions? What do they expect from a guy? Just an average, good looking guy, educated, well brought up, who goes out with a bunch of friends once a week on a Saturday night? A guy who probably would take care of that girl, spend time with her and be there when she needs him. Not someone who has spent every evening of the last 8 months in clubs and every weekend behind books on picking up girls. Just an average good-looking guy. What are your thoughts on this? Until next time

XOXO

solitude