Meet Mr. Satisfaction…

Lives at the doorstep of the Comic Strip Centre

There was a time when I used to believe that it really wasn’t me even though time after time I was the only common denominator in each and every instance.  If Brussels has cemented one thing in my mind it’s that it’s most definitely me that brings the crazies to the yard.  I’m still at a lost as to what it is about me but somehow I managed to be a weirdo beacon in the middle of an alleyway in Brussels on a fine afternoon despite how sick and sweaty I looked to the rest of the viewing public.

This particular day started out with nothing interesting to note.  We had a good lay-in and then decided it was time to see what the real world of Brussels was up to after indulging in frites – the breakfast of champions.  At this point it had been a good 24 hours since I last consumed anything but sadly, all that deep-fried goodness was too much for me to handle so after a few bites and poking a little fun at the German fella next to me (He kept looking over so what else was I going to do?  Atleast this time I didn’t mistake his staring for someone looking to be friendly but unable to communicate in English…yes, I’ve come a long way!), I gave up on eating once again.  As food was out of the question, the only thing a girl could do was head off to the Comic Strip Centre.  After all, I heard a rumor that they’re harboring a life-size smurf in that building.  Yes, what excites and motivates me can only be described as sad!

Store close to the scene of the crime!

Anyway, after a bit of poking around at the Comic Strip Centre and not being able to read any of the work on display as my French skills are lacking, it was off to Grand Place and exploring the winding alleyways that surround it and hopefully finding a cute little place to take a bit of a break.  In my head I was thinking possibly a waffle house or cafe that sold my illusive Canada Dry but in the distance I could hear a voice calling out as a man quickly grabbed my arm.  At first, I thought this was a technique to draw us into the restaurant he worked at so I played along but I soon found out that once again, I was completely and utterly WRONG!  This man who we’ll call Mr. Satisfaction (sadly, a nickname that he came up with all on his own not knowing that I would surely blog about him in the days to come) was someone looking to meet me in order to confess his undying love (something he felt the need to do repeatedly despite how embarrassing the whole gesture became) while providing us drinks on the house.  He didn’t seem to care that I was sick or radiating heat like a furnace as he infringed on my personal space in hopes to get to know me better.

Miss Bathtub Diaries was just eating it up as she not only got free entertainment like the rest of the patrons at the restaurant but also the benefit of all the freebies this weirdo was sending my way.   As the entire restaurant started to joke about how it only took me 1 day to find a Brussels boyfriend, I did what I always do in these situations…RUN.  I may have told a little white lie of how I would meet up with him to get him to release his grasp on my arm but desperate times call for desperate measures.  At the end of the day, these situations tend to happen to me more often than not but I’m still not sure why.  There’s interest and then there’s interest boarding on obsession and sadly, I seem to bring the latter out in men and not sure what to do to change it before my head winds up in a freezer somewhere!

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Categories: BELGIUM, belgium: brussels | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

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2 thoughts on “Meet Mr. Satisfaction…

  1. I saw your link on Bucket List Publications and have added a link to your site on mine, too. Hope you stop by for a visit: http://theopensuitcase.wordpress.com/2012/08/01/this-ones-for-the-wanderers/

    • Thank you so much – I really appreciate it. After a quick poke around, I’ve done the same. Can’t wait to read more about your adventures and such.

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