Literary Love Life?

So, this requires a bit of back story:

After my mis-adventures with the Ice Cream Girl came to an abrupt and tragic close (please refer to previous blog post), Natalie set to finding me a new crush. She is very good at this. Natalie is my guiding light in Munich. When all goes wrong, I stop, breathe, and think "WWND?"

She calls me in a panic a few days ago to inform me that there is this really cute girl who works at the second hand English language bookstore (sounds good already! I love this place.) "You have to come here and see her!" gasps Natalie in an octave a bit higher than normal. I leap down the Matt-pole into the Matt-Cave and get ready for action. To The Matt Mobile! (which, incidentally, is my feet.)

We go there (a brisk fifteen minute walk north-west of my current location) and she is nowhere in sight. Damnit! Foiled again by the diabolical schemes of... life! Again! I hang my head in shame, a la Charlie Brown and prepare to exit the building.

This couldn't have been scripted better: as I am walking out, The Girl rides past the window on her bike. I JUST MISSED HER!


-Zoom ahead to just this morning... in fact, just about two hours ago (it's 1:00pm now).
I have off today and wanted to get some quality shopping (jeans and Lederhosen [the traditional garb for Bavarian men. You know the deal: short leather pants and suspenders. Sexy sexy. I can't wait to get my pair. It's a Halloween costume for life!]), along with some good cappoccino/book time.
But Hark! I remember that the Book Store Girl works in the mornings!
TO THE MATT MOBILE!
I walk to the book store. I step inside. I glance left. I glace right. I look right in front of my face. There she is. Right in front of me. Damn. She is cute. Doesn't dress like usual Germans. This chick... she's got attitude. (my land lord always like American girls because they have "spice" and attitude).

And now, for your reading pleasure, a near exact transcript of the next fifteen minutes:
Hey
Hello
How's it going
Good, do you need help with anything?
Yeah, I could use your number./ No thanks, just looking around.
(I go with the latter) I proceed to look about the store for the next fifteen minutes planning my next move. I grab a book on the crusades that looks mildly interesting, but more importantly, is the cheapest book I can find. This may turn into an expensive flirting adventure. We ain't in the Land of Ice Cream anymore...

I go to the register. Wait. She is on the computer. She doesn't notice me standing at the counter (or does she? That sly devil is playing the player's game..). After an awkward pause (and a fair amount of purposely audible money shuffling on my part), she turns around. "Just say something!" she says in a jestful manner. Damn she is cute. "Oh, you looked very engrossed in it (complete with "drawing in" emphasizing hand gestures)."
"You dont have an accent. Where are you from? (going according to plan)."
"Germany. Born, raised, and lived in Munich all my life."
"Oh, you speak English perfectly. Do you have an American parent?"
"No. I have an American boyfriend."

OH CRUEL AND UNUSUAL WORLD THAT DOTH SPITE ME AT EVERY WAKING TURN! YOU WRENCHETH MINE SOUL FROM MINE EMPTY HEART AND TRAMPLE IT UNDERFOOT INTO THE DARKEST DEPTHS OF OBLIVION!

I pay and leave.
As I walk down the road, I call Natalie to tell her what happened.
Then I realize: She didn't say "I have an American boyfriend" but she actually said "I had an American boyfriend." Light at the end of the tunnel. Stepeth into the Light, Matt. Stepeth...

I stepeth-ed.

I turn around and start walking back to the book shop. (Are you on the edge of your seat?! I was nearly vomiting at this point as I had woken up and drank a cappoccino on an empty stomach. Bad idea.) I call Natalie. "Is this a good idea?", I say. It is a good idea. Do it.

I walk back. There she is! She is having a smoke on the stoop of the store (I am not one for smokers, but in Europe I make an exception. And for her, I'll make an exception).
She is talking on the phone. Oh. Shit. Is she talking to her boyfriend? Is she married? Is she divorced? Dammit! Turn around Matt! ABORT!

No. Stepeth.

I stepeth. I awkwardly wait next to a rack of books and pretend to be interested in them. She gets off the phone.
"Listen, I would be kicking myself if I didn't ask, but, would you like to get a drink with me tonight?"
"Sure. Do you know the place Garibaldi's?"
Holy crap. It's my favorite wine bar in Munich. This girl is good.
"Yeah"
"How about 9:00?"
"Sounds great."

And at that moment, a dove emerged from its shell and an angel's trumpet reverberated throughout the heavens. Matt had actually, truly for the first time, hit on a complete stranger and gotten a date. Of course, I'll let you know how it goes, oh faithful reader.

Reporting from the front lines of Munich,
Matt