Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Taiwan dating: Getting some insights

With the girl from Subway who took me to MTV, I had managed to get some insights into Taiwanese girls: they were relatively shyer, repressed but definitely not less willing. Still I was an English oath whose main pick up technique was to get drunk, hope the girl was also, and then dance and rub my crotch on her as my way of asking for her phone number. This technique could still get you laid in the bar in Taiwan – There were the girls who wanted a foreigner more than life itself and were prepared to put up with your awful approach – however, after a few months in Taiwan I was interested in going beyond these girls.

After the initial euphoria wore off I noticed the majority of pretty girls in the bar were interested in meeting a foreigner but not interested enough to accept the rubbing and crotch thrusts. I also noticed there were a bunch of guys who knew the right technique and me and my recently arrived friends watched in envy as they left with them – while we were stuck with the same girls who had this unnaturally fluent English for someone who had lived their whole life in Taiwan, and an insistence on giving you a long lecture about how much they liked western culture.

Fortunately, I knew John and, as usual, he knew what to do. His advice was simple: they need a get out clause to not feel bad about what they are doing; go cheesy, the more cheesy the better; think of the naffest, fingers down your throat line that would get you laughed out of town and deliver it with gusto.

I guessed it must work because John managed to get new arrivals from the disco to a love hotel, and I couldn’t possibly see how the purpose could be hidden. I decided the disco to love hotel thing was a bridge too far so I decided my best hope was to take numbers and try it on a first date. I called up a girl called Claire Hsu who I had met the previous week. Claire still spoke excellent English, but in that slightly stilted and formal way that suggested she hadn’t been using it with upteen foreign boyfriends before me. She was new to the foreign market but it seems not without the usual stereotypes.

“So why do you like the foreigner?” I asked because I had fallen into a habit of identifying myself as such, not a person. It seemed to me almost everyone had an opinion about the foreigner, some incredibly good - almost all good, in fact - it was just that they weren’t going to stick to politically correct slavish notions, ignore national stereotypes and from scratch, slowly and tentatively try and find out the real me. It didn’t bother me because I hadn’t exactly grown up adverse to making generalizations about my fellow man that I had lived to regret - saying one thing the result of inbred prejudices, and then doing another based on moral integrity. Some people worked ceaselessly for charity and then treated their loved ones horribly. How well I was treated by the Taiwanese only served to confirm this theory to me. I knew I didn’t have all the answers, but at the same time, I wasn’t going to call them racist like so many did.

“You westerners are more opened-minded, treat your women nice,” said Claire.

“That is right. You know in England they are developing ways for men to breastfeed.”


“No, I am sorry. But, yes, we like to share everything equally. I would feel terrible otherwise,” I said unsure if I was being serious or not. I continued, "White men are the root of all evil back home."

"That is stupid," she replied.

"Yeah...well - Maybe, I should take you to a Woman's Group Meeting back home."I thought it was fantastic to finally hear what I kind of knew, but are not allowed to say in PC Britain: western men were actually relatively good to their women. I know it had nothing to do with anything innate to the western male character - it was merely we had been shamed, pushed, and legislated against forcing us to be so.

We then discussed her work. She said she was very busy at the moment.

“I know,” I replied. You have to earn money. I heard it everyday from Taiwanese, delivered as if their life depended upon it. “Yes,” she replied, smiling, relieved I understood.
Finally, we touched bases on stereotypes of Englishman.

“So you are from English - a gentleman,” she said.“Yeap, that’s right me love, a real gentleman,” I replied.

I loved the national stereotypes and nobody knowing my West of England accent.“What do you mean, a real gentleman?” she asked.

“Well, my family used to live on a council estate. Do you know what an estate is?”

“I know - big house, land…like that movie Sense and the Sensibility…I watched that.”

They all had because the director, Ang Lee, was Taiwanese.“Spot on. It was called the Bourneville, by the way.”

“You say used to?” she said now extremely interested.

“Yeah, we moved to something bigger in the city…We didn’t want to deal with the government anymore.” I could see her looking at my tattoo and starting to formulate questions. “That is my coat of arms…You know, sign your family is from good stock.”

She didn’t understand, but nodded anyway not wanting to appear too bolshie on the first date.

“I went to England - London.”

“I know.”

“So where did you graduate from?”

“University of Essex. I just missed out on Oxford – one point you know – gutted me.”

“Wow, so you are a smart guy. Why are you teaching English in Taiwan, then?”

“I am lazy, ill-disciplined. I figure I can make a fast buck without having to work hard.” Best not to build their hopes up, I reasoned.

“What is ‘wot’ she asked?”

The first time I had said, ‘What do you mean? What is wot?’” And it had gone back in circles for a while. Now I knew better: “Wot is the English way of saying WHAT,” I replied with an American accent on the second 'what'.

“Let me get the bill.”

“Please. It is my treat,” said Claire. “I know you don’t have much money. You are new in Taiwan.”

“No. I insist. I am the man.”

Now was the delicate part of the evening, I thought. If I wait a few more dates than of course she will be mine, but that is not my objective.

“I have had a good time,” I said.

“Me too,” she replied.

“Thanks. So what do you want to do now? Watch TV or a video?” I asked.

“Yes, I like to watch video.”

“Wonderful. I am sorry…” I said.

“What is the matter?” she replied.“You know I stay in the hostel now, so there are too many people. It is hard to get used to…not having a house anymore.”

“We can watch at mine?”

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass you, having a strange man in your house.”

“No, that is ok. We are only watching a video so nothing to be shamed of.”

“Exactly - You really have a western attitude,” I said then watched the quiver of pride shoot up her body.

“Thank you. You really think so.”


We got in her car, drove to near the intersection of Fuhsing South Road and ChongHsaio East Road, turned into underground parking, and then took the lift to the tenth floor; when we got out we walked along a white-walled corridor not out of place in a hospital, and then went through the metal aluminum door to her one-bedroom apartment. Out the window I could see Sogo. This area was the center of the city. There was ten-lane road outside the window.

“Let’s shut the window, please. You can only get a certain amount of good petrol fumes in your lungs in a day.”

“What is petrol?”“I am sorry – gas.” I said. “Nice location.”

“Convenient for the restaurant and KTV,” she replied.

“Yeah, very smart also given the bad the traffic. You must be able to walk to work.”

“No. My work is in Neihu. Oh, so much trouble. Forty minutes drive every morning.”

I had heard of Neihu, it was actually a very nice suburb with mountains, lakes and parks.“As I say you made the right choice - mountainous residential suburb next to your work or box by the roadside next to the nightlife.”

I eyed the sofa and the apartment in general. Furniture was mostly Ikea and sparse. She had a fairly small TV for a Taiwanese – thirty inch. She had hung a lot of material on the white walls and given it a warm touch. Still he had the feeling, like I did in most people houses, they could pack there stuff and be gone in thirty minutes if they had too.

“Hey, what about the video,” I said. “I am sorry, how did we forget?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

I continued, “Anyway, I am sure there is something good on HBO.”

We need something to drown out the sound of the traffic, I thought.

I waited ten minutes then reached into my bag. “So, I went to get some photos developed today. They are of my family just before I left. Would you like to see?” I asked.

“Please. I would like very much?” she replied.“Your mother is beautiful…Your father handsome - He looks like the movie star.”

“Don’t we all…So this is my sister and her daughter.”

“How old is she?”


“She looks so mature. Why are you foreigner children so mature?”

“I can assure you it is only a look….Well…that is them all.”

“Thank you very much. So nice,” she gushed.

I insisted she get out her family photos.

“Wow you have a nice family. I can see you are a good daughter,” I said.

“No, no.” But I saw a ripple of satisfaction go through her body.She picked up the cushion next to her, and covered her stomach. “I am tired,” she said, before closing her eyes.

Time already is it, I thought. I leaned over, took the pillow, and started to kiss her. For the next five minutes she said, I am tired, and brought the pillow back to her lap, while I took it away again. When the pillow stopped coming back, I started on the clothes. Slowly, she started to respond with reciprocal kisses and cuddles, but I wasn’t expecting her to rip off my shirt.

It was time for the underwear.“What are you doing?” she said, pulling back. “I am not that kind of girl.”

“I am sorry…I know you are a good girl and this is a big deal for you,” I said before going back to massaging and kissing.

I was actually really nervous at this stage and was prepared to give up – but I thought I better follow through with the advice and so started counting.…ten...nine..Wow, this time it is not too quick, I thought.

“Hmm, I think you don’t need that,” said Claire as I started to rip open a condom packet.

I then went through my standard speech. “I think I do…I’m sorry…How to explain. I know you don’t normally do this sort of thing. You are not a dirty girl. I am wearing it for another reason. It is kind of embarrassing: if I don’t wear it I will cum too quickly. I want you to enjoy more.”

Then she gave me a surprise: “It is okay I don’t need to enjoy so much,” she said.

I was stumped because the girls in the bar so far had liked the idea that I wanted to satisfy them. I had to think quickly to remember the rule: give them a reason to pass the buck to you.

“Sorry,” I said. “I know you are only interested in my sexual gratification and not your own. I mean it is for me you see: I don’t want to cum so quickly. You want to make your man happy don’t you?”


“Yes. Really. It is your fault you are too sexy.”

“Me! No!”

“Yes. Really. You are too sexy,” I repeated.“Hmm, I must accept then. I want you to enjoy. But I feel strange. Not natural – nobody have ever with me before.”

“That is why I am going to, love…Nothing.”

“Your welcome,” she replied.

“Hah, you are so strong,” cried Claire. “You cum so much.”

“There you go - Told you condoms are useful for something.”

“Maybe… but still strange - I only use the condom with you.”

“That is a pity - For your sake anyway…”

“I am sorry. I have to go. I have to get up early tomorrow morning to teach,” I said.

She looked upset so I tried to console her. “I am sorry again. I didn’t expect this to happen. The moment was special.”

“Yes, I know. Uh…me, neither. I don’t normally do this sort of thing.”

“Of course you don’t.”

I put on my clothes and instinctively checked my wallet for the name card for the hotel so I could get home. I gave her a good-bye kiss.

On his way out I saw her turn her phone back on and start checking for messages. She was great; they all were.

No comments: