The Metropolis

How to date European men by a very annoying American

Alison Banville | Friday 22 October, 2010 09:32

As a woman with a healthy interest in men – well that’s if you count my current obsession with fucking a guy anally with a strap-on – I’m always on the lookout for sound advice from other women of the world to guide me through the minefield of gender relations. The truth is I haven’t had much action of late – perhaps blurting out the aforementioned obsession five mintues after saying hello to a new man accounts for my current dry spell? – ‘dry’ did you see what I did there? It’s so confusing, men are always whining about the games women play but tell them straight what you’re thinking and they run for the hills! What’s a girl to do? After a good long think I recently decided that I need to become less intimidating, less ‘full-on’ – I must cultivate coyness! Yes, that’s it! I must affect a girlish innocence so as not to scare away the fragile males of London. I must learn not to embody what a Jane Austin character once observed was the most unflattering trait a young lady could possess – ‘conceited independence’.

My quest for help began with the obligatory internet search and I did, I am pleased to report, find much of interest, except that it is all a bit ‘Cosmo’, all a bit, ‘you can demand what you want in bed’ which, as I have discovered, simply frightens off the modern man, at least the ones I want to meet. Oh yes, I know in some quarters binge drinking is the thing and anything goes but I want a guy with a certain measure of discernment and I fear this type’s ardour may cool after he’s seen me pissing in the gutter.

As I have revealed, even speaking my mind on sex has them making their excuses. But I have seen the light!

But could I find a coyness guide? I could not. Why can’t my sisters in the advice business accept that we must flatter them before we fellate them? Yes, we must laugh at their jokes with a giggle like the tinkling of fairy bells remembering never to crack a joke ourselves – so unfeminine, and we must look away frequently when we converse with them as though the strength of their gaze is simply too overwhelming for us.

Continuing my search I happened upon what I can only describe as a miracle! God works in mysterious ways and in my desperation I was offered the gift of author Katherine ChloĆ© Cahoon. Miss Cahoon is a vision of the kind of non-threatening charm I now aspired to. Dressed like a late 30-something Alice in Wonderland complete with hairbands and pastel-shaded garb she exudes a cloying coyness I know men will find irresistable if only I can emulate it. Katherine is all the more astonishing because she is American. Yes, the land of such blatant hussies as Madonna and Samantha from Sex and the City! But she has risen above all this to emerge as a paragon of prudence. Her book, The Single Girl’s Guide to European Men has been reincarnated as humorous video snippets (see above) packed full of realistic advice for her stateside sisters but is also useful for us Britishers in that it gives a refreshing outsider’s take on how to interact with the males of multi-cultural London. We learn that what all of them want above everything else is ‘romance’ I knew it! But the most invaluable aspect of the videos is the example of Katherine herself. Sashaying down stone steps as if she’s trying to keep a tennis ball between her thighs she would have Miss Jay from America’s Next Top Model squealing with delight. And the voice! It’s mesmerising! A slow drawl one might use when talking to a particularly dense five year old is exactly what’s needed when reassuring a man of his superiorty.

After numerous viewings I was ready to try out my new fragrant persona on the unsuspecting men of London. Last Friday night was the occasion. Tottering into a swanky bar in heels rather than a pub in biker boots was empowering and I noticed immediate attention from the males present. I slid onto a stool next to a well-built young gentleman who was very appreciative of my simpering tone as I accepted his offer of a drink. I took a modest sip and then, with studied shyness as he leaned in, asked him….well, I meant to ask him if he went to the gym a lot he had such big muslces, but somehow what came out was ‘have you ever thought about being fucked anally by a woman with a strap-on?’ Damn! I was doing so well! I guess I just can’t take the ‘cock’ out of ‘coquette.’

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