Taiwan culture: A wolf in little red riding hoods clothing

Doesn’t drink, smoke, has to home by six p.m, but doesn’t mind a three-some with you and your mates in the afternoon.

In Taiwan you can meet a lot of wolf in little red riding hood clothing type girls, who, if you judge them by usual standards of social norms you will be writing them off as virgins, religious cult members or nuns.

It can take alot of getting used to when you first arrive. This story happened to me:

The girl behind the counter in Subway who made my sandwich was smiling as she collected my tray so I decided to test the water.

“Hello, what is your name?” I asked.

“Me? Oh, I am Jenny. Hmm…What is your name?”

As she replied, her back had straightened, and she had blurted out her answer, nervously, positively, like this was an exam.

“No, need to stand to attention,”I said. “Only Joking, I am Dan. Nice to meet you."

“Nice to meet you too… Oh…” I extended my hand to shake, and worked out a full meaty shake was not the done thing: we kind of touched thumbs on flat fingers and moved robotically, nervously up and down a few times.

“Hmm, where are you from?” she asked.

“England - So let’s cut to the chase,” I said because I was being driven wild by her innocent freshness as she continued to dip her head every few seconds, smile and cross her hands in front of her stomach. It was a weird feelings of corrupting innocence, something I had never had in England; presumably only pedophiles talk to girls of an age range that are still innocent. It was unusual to meet post-puberty girls who had such a fresh, positive attitude to life. The innocence was giving me goose pimples…It was also making me feel ashamed. “Would you like to go out for a drink some time?”

“You mean the bar?”

“Of course.”

“I am sorry. I don’t like the bar. Smoky. My father say I can't drink the alcohol.”

“Hmm, sorry, then I think I best be on my way.”I replied hurrying for the door red-faced looking around to see if anyone was coming after me to beat me up for talking to the virgin.

A few weeks later i went back to this Subway.

“Why don’t you want to go out with me?” said the girl.

“You said you didn’t like bars?” I replied.

“Yes,” she said, and after about ten minutes it kind of dawned on me I should keep an open mind.

“Okay, what about tonight?” I asked.

“I am not allowed out in the evening,” she replied.

I stared at her as if to ask if she was trying to wind me up and things went silent for a minute.

“I finish in half an hour. You want to wait for me?” she asked.

“And, what are we going to do? Go shopping for pencil cases?”

“Hmm...Have some tea,” she replied.

I was now absolutely sure I was being wound up, and only a plonker would still be around in 20 minutes....

I sat watching her drink, leaning over her glass of cold green tea, elbows on lap, her hands nailed at the wrists while holding her straw with her two index fingers. I talked; she occasionally prised one hand from the side of her glass to cover her mouth while she laughed, before reattaching to clap or fiddle with her straw. Occasionally, she sat up, but mostly she stayed chin to the glass looking up at me sheepishly. I thought I saw signs, but then I also knew she didn’t drink, had to be home by six o’clock, and read cartoons. She also looked young of course – they all did – and that didn’t help, but the problem was more mental: I didn’t want to be anyone’s first love. I met girls in bars in Taiwan because I had been told the ones outside were traditional. A shotgun wedding was something I could do without. But it wasn’t just that: there was no atmosphere, no dirty talk; this was chatting up without the ‘up’, physical attraction without either force. Sex wasn't polite. I knew she was twenty-three, because I had made an excuse to see her I.D. card - but I still couldn’t help thinking I was going to wake up on the paedophile wing of a local jail smoking my own dick.

“Can I go, now?”I asked after about an hour exhausted by the debate going on in my head and starting to go dizzy from twisting my neck to look out the window every two seconds for those relatives.

“Hmm, okay,” she replied.

“What are you doing?” I asked as she had followed me a few paces behind and was now getting on the back of my scooter.

“You said ‘lets go.’”

“Look love, I don’t want to sit in the park and hold hands.” She slapped me on the shoulder and said, “Tao yen, tao yen, you foreigners are so direct.”

Tao yen meant hate – but not in a literal sense, more a oh don’t be stupid. A must word you will definitely learn if you ever date a Taiwanese girl.

“Hmm, let’s go to MTV,” she continued.

I had heard of MTV. MTV’s were like KTVs, huge building filled with hundreds of individual rooms with a TV and a sofa in each for you to relax and watch a film that was out on video. They were of course used by young people who couldn’t afford a hotel room. As I was living in the hostel with no privacy I was looking forward to the opportunity to be in a room with a comfortable sofa, and a chance to relax and watch a film.

We got out at the seventh floor, and searched among the racks of films. I let Hello Kitty choose, and so she picked ‘Pretty Woman’ and we headed into a room led by an assistant.

“Hmm, still a little sticky,” I joked to myself, but still relaxed myself down onto the huge leather sofa that went from one side of the room to the other. It was a long way down because the sofa was minus the legs; more like a sofa bed on the floor.

Two minutes later the assistant who brought us to the room was back with a glass of cold milk tea and a glass of lemon tea, and then we were alone, sat next to each other.

“Not seen the film before?” I asked her.

“Hmm, I see it many times,” she replied, looking at me sideways sucking on her glass of lemon tea. “…You want me to give you the blow job?”

“What do you think?” I replied.

“You don’t like me?”

“Please…Sorry….Yeah, I would love you to give me the blowjob…Come here.”

For the rest of the month we met regularly at the MTV or a Love Hotel until, one day, she asked me if it was possible to bring this another guy she had met for some tag team action, or one of my friends if I so wished.

It was then I had to admit those reservations, prejudices of behavior were wrong: not drinking, smoking, and wearing Hello Kitty didn’t have to equate with being an unhappy innocent being taken advantage of in the big bad world. She was repressed, boring – but absolutely not innocent.

But, anyway, I preferred the pickup with some physical interaction, so I decided to stay in the bar.