I may have slept with a few chicks in my time, but I’ve never slept with a woman with whom I didn’t share a common language, and I’m not talking about the so-called language of love. The language of love if it exists at all, exists in only one form; a very good looking and obvious alpha male who can claim his fair share of women regardless of whether they are able to communicate or not. Yes, yes, I know that you went to Thailand and picked up this amazingly hawt Thai chick, and she didn’t speak a word of English, and you ended up going out with her for several months, good for you.
That ain’t romance, and it sure ain’t love. That’s what is known as hooking a ride with a guy from a wealthier culture. You could look like Tom Arnold and still get laid in that situation.
Back when I lived in Uganda there were a bunch of old white dudes who hung out in the greasy bar at the end of the dirt road near our house in suburban Kampala. Every time we passed they were there, sitting out the front of the bar on the porch, nursing their bottles of Nile Special lager. They were old, fat, unattractive, unappealing, and looked like they had poor hygiene, (I never got close enough to find out.)
And they always had some local beauty hanging off their arm. The girls changed but the scene remained the same. It was because they were white men, of course, and it put me off Ugandan women for good. I knew that any girl that I went with, no matter how beautiful, would be just as willing to go with one of those old farts in my place.
There was a chick that was so hawt that we christened her the ‘Oh my god girl’. Every time that we saw her one of us would inevitably utter the immortal line, ‘oh my god’. The ‘Oh my god girl’ liked me. She actually had a thing for me. But it wasn’t going to happen for the reasons that I stated above.
Call me old fashioned, but I like to have a challenge. Which is why I have only ever slept with white women. Not only is there no challenge from picking up native girls from marginalized cultures, I find it just a little bit distasteful. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not judging – but for myself I could never do it.
Which was why going to Italy was initially a big shock. There I was, fresh from my adventures in Africa and with a score of airline stewardesses under my belt, only to find myself in a valley high in the Alps with quite a few available women and absolutely no chance whatsoever to pull them.
Because I didn’t speak the language and they didn’t speak mine. There are only so many times that you can introduce yourself and say ‘come stai?’ before the conversation starts to wear thin. I’m good looking enough to attract a woman from across a room, but I’m in no way capable of locking her down based on my looks alone. I needed to have game before game was a thing. I need to be able to talk to them because that’s what game is all about; talking to them.
Back in the day we didn’t call it game. To us it was simply how to make her laugh, and the best way to make her laugh was to get her to laugh at herself. If you could do that then you were pretty much set. But there we were, half a dozen experienced and worldly Aussie and Kiwi rafting guides, stuck high up in a mountain valley where the competition was at times literally retarded, and none of us were getting laid.
I lie. One of us got laid. Josh was a very good looking tall young Aussie lad who picked up a stunning Italian woman while sitting on a train. To be fair, she picked him up. She came up to stay with him and have noisy sex on a few occasions, (she lived in Milan if my memory is correct). But the sex will only get you so far when the language is a barrier, and particularly if the two people hail from equal cultures.
A lot of guys talk about going to lesser cultures so as to exploit the women, which is fine so long as you understand that you’re getting exploited in return. When you have exploitation of any kind then you have drama and my number one rule for relationships is no drama of any kind. If I even get a sniff of potential drama then it’s goodbye Charlie. This was a behavior pattern that I had to ingrain in myself the hard way after a series of brutal relationships where I put up with huge amounts of drama.
To be fair, I only was able to stop putting up with drama when I was incapable of causing drama myself. For various reasons I was immature for a long time in my adult life. When I finally grew up then I finally grew out of drama-fueled relationships as well.
It helps that I am married to a woman who not only speaks my language but is from a similar culture as well. Whether you’re after a long term commitment or a one night roll in the hay, language matters. Culture matters as well, but sometimes it takes a while to understand that. Like I said, I don’t judge. I learnt some things really quickly and other lessons took me a very long time. We’re all on different journeys.