I always found myself locked into something way too soon and then quickly sideswiped by some awful characteristic that bugged the hell out of me, like for example, loud breathing, bad jeans or the absolute worst, a liking for Sky Sports. For one thing, I never want to go to dinner with a guy I don’t fancy who’s going to think it’s ok to squeeze my leg or worse. I normally avoid going for drinks unless I have an instant chemistry with the guy and that happens, well, almost never. Or the guy who insisted I bring my girlfriend with me on our second date. She laughed right up until her boyfriend fell out of the door with his pants around his ankles attached to a blonde. Sometimes, I wonder whether to respond, “how is your wife? I think, to be fair, Los Angeles is an extreme example of US culture. I knew I could never play second fiddle with a guy I actually liked and keep a coquettish smile on my face. It helps that like I said, you’d probably seen them around before, as is the British way. And woe betide the woman who had the hots for a guy, and went with it, because you were just a slut and would never have the guy’s respect. Then just going with whatever you felt like doing, no judgement.
My British friend Tim, living in LA and waking up with a local girl for the first time one morning, told her, “so I guess you’re my girlfriend.” Admittedly this was a bit crass.
But, he says, “she literally ran from the room.” Then never returned his calls. Maybe I’d have to only date guys I wasn’t into – it seemed sort of pointless. Did people wait until they’d picked one person out of several? My eyebrow girl Stevie says she dates “loads of guys” but she never has sex with any of them until she knows they won’t dick her over.
I guess maybe, despite her own pushy characters, in between Mr.
Darcy with his sexy accents and Hugh Grant with his killer smile, there are other qualities in British men that, probably after spending a couple months with him, would not be amusing anymore.: politeness, failure to speak out, and not demonstrating their feelings.
Whether a sign of creeping cultural imperialism or just an excuse to get bladdered on Bud Light and eat undercooked hotdogs, I'm unsure.
However, it's made me think about the differences between us and our pals across the pond. He was English, witty, slightly bumbling, and had a crooked smile. He was also part of an emerging pattern: He wasn't the first British guy I'd romantically clicked with. When I first moved to Beijing right after graduating from Brown, I never intended to fall for so many English guys. I'd like to think that I did know, but judging by how headfirst I was diving into the relationship, I couldn't have been sure. ” I say, “you see each other around in a vague way, then, in a casual ‘accidental’ meeting, you get drunk, have sex and by 5am you’re either creeping out the door with your knickers in your handbag, or they’re asking when you can move in.” It took me a while to come up with this answer, because it was weird to me too when I thought about it, I mean, I grew up with it, so it was something you never had to spell out. Awkward, clunky conversations like “are you seeing other people? Incredulous, they ask, “so how do English people meet each other?She despises Australian after a bad break-up with her last proper boyfriend and swears off Ozzy dudes forever.