Being able to date above our league, the superior sex, unleashes fear and doubt in all of us which you have to get over. Eric particularly so - after a year he was still saying the same culture shock nonsense that we used to justify being with our first girlfriend.
He claimed to be interested in the women but had then kept his girlfriend, Diane, for one year.
Diane was maybe fifty-five kilos, a little over weight, but definitely not fat. She was one of the girlfriend/secretary combos that were popular when you first arrive. A big step up from what we are used to, but after a couple of months our sights would adjust and we would move on.
For these girls, picking a guy as he got off the plane was a high-risk strategy - not least because he was usually a moaning, sanctimonious, homesick prick - but sooner or later they would come across an unsure of himself simple boy from Ohio, they could make their own. Next week, I was going to the wedding of the secretary from my school and a good young All-American boy who’s trainers were still clean and shorts pressed. I reckoned he would be going to Eric’s wedding next.
Whenever, we attempted to introduce him, it was always the same thing.
“Hey, man! I ain’t falling for that get myself a young beautiful chick shit! Walk down the street with her proud, but have nothing to say,” he would reply.
"I don’t know why a woman can’t be beautiful and intelligent," I would say. "That is actually pretty sexist."
Eric hated the idea of being sexist, so he would immediately change tact: “Anyway, they will dump you soon. These beautiful ones cannot be trusted.”
"Your evidence for this? And you were planning to marry her?"
That evening Diane had also come to the bar with some friends.
"So bring her over," said John. "Let's be charmed by her intellect and conversation."
"Man, I ain't going to do that - I have to speak to her later to get sex."
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