Sam: Cultural Confusion

It’s Christmas party season, and I’ve been out chatting as usual. My most recent interesting conversation was with a very attractive and very single Italian woman. She was totally confused as to why, after years in England she had failed to snag a boyfriend.

Since these things are endlessly fascinating I started asking her some questions. Were the only guys that actually approached her idiot womaniser types? ‘Yes! How did you know?’, She asked surprised. How did she feel about making it clear that man was interested in her ‘Well I couldn’t do that, I’d be acting like a slut!’. Things started to become clear this was a case of cultural confusion. The thing is that in Italy if you give out any signals at all (e.g. making eye contact or smiling) you are pretty much seen as being totally up for it. You can start to see why friendly American women get into so much trouble and feel totally sexually harassed in Italy.

The interesting thing is that while all cultures tend to use the same basic flirting signals, the whole flirting dance changes in every county you go to – in some places it is as different as the language.  Sometimes it is louder, sometimes more subtle. The problem for this Italian woman is that in Italy the rules are very different to the UK. In Italy a man is interested he will relentlessly pursue his woman only giving up after a long and heated chase. ‘Of course in Italy No means yes!’ She proclaimed. ‘It is like a film I saw set in Rome, there is a man, who has just seen a woman, he runs up to her, proclaiming his love. She slaps him, tells him to fuck off and to get away from her. The next scene he grabs her and they both kiss passionately!’. Try the same thing in the UK and they would probably be calling the police.

So this poor Italian woman had completely turned off all her public flirting signals (as is appropriate for Italy), which means British men presume she is unavailable and she only attracts the womanising rule breakers. It would be nice is someone could get around to publishing the International Languages of Love. Would lead to a lot less confusion for everyone.

Danonymous Dan: The First Kiss

Hands up who has seen Dawson’s Creek? Or its more recent clone, The O.C? I am sure there are plenty of ‘Emo in disguise’ shows which I could list here, all aimed at the American middle classes. We all know how good American ‘aim’ is, and unsurprisingly, in a hail of televisual friendly fire, those shows ended up here on our TVs. Mowing down our impressionable young people in a cross fire of weepy teenage angst, I was luckily just old enough that these show’s bullets of cathartic simplicity bounced harmlessly off my embittered British skin, when they first started arriving in the late ’90s.

“Did you see the one where Dawson agonised over his naughty thoughts while hiding himself in a shack by an idyllic lake which the director brilliantly juxtaposed with Dawson’s roiling inner turmoil. You see! He’s just like us, except with a bigger forehead, obviously.”

Whether you think these shows are escapism, catharsis, or simply crap, you can’t deny their subject matter, first kiss, first fondle, first act of onanism (‘onerism’ is incorrect – look it up), strikes a chord with everybody. Unfortunately, life doesn’t do soft focus, and most people’s experiences are far more interesting and visceral than daytime US sop-soaps can cover. Looking back, I find my first kiss incredibly funny, but at the time it threatened to scar me for life. It was pre-Dawson by about two years – the only television I had to help me cope was Blue Peter and Byka Grooove.

Being the ‘creative type’ (read dyslexic and emotionally stunted) I had managed to land myself a bit part in the school play and was at school one weekend for a rehearsal. The play’s lead, played by one of my year’s cooler sorts, had brought a few ‘out of school’ friends with him, like a coterie of groupies. It was with one of these girls, a hoop ear-ringed, shiny shell suit wearing meta-chav with an expression of permanent distaste on her face, that I had my first kiss. I’m being a bit nasty after the fact, because I do remember her as very pretty despite all the Elizabeth Duke trappings.

I was a Nirvanoid, so I guess if she was a blueprint for chav, I was the blueprint for Emo and as they say, opposites attract. After much ‘my-friend-fancies you,-do-you-like-her’-type chat this girl and I ended up away from everybody behind a bush or something romantic like that. Things were going well, hotting up even. I cracked jokes, she laughed. She cracked jokes and I pretended to laugh. You could almost hear the music in the background building the tension toward the romantic encounter that surely neither of us could avoid. We were two freight trains on a single track of destiny ploughing toward a perfect passionate moment – time would surely stop. I lent in and it happened, boy freight train met girl freight train, we kissed, our tongues questing, my eyes open in shocked surprise at my luck – ‘look mum, I’m doing it!’ The moment lasted what seemed like an age, the girl pulled back and looked deep into my eyes and said:

“You’ve not done that before, have you?” My train de-railed, rolled down a bank and fell off a cliff edge of sheer drop-jaw embarrassment. She went off and told people who laughed at me.

Cue Music: “I don’t wanna wait... for our lives to be over…”

Sam: Christmas Shopping List

With Christmas almost upon us it got me thinking about shopping lists – of the relationship kind. One of the things that I get all my clients to do is come up with their ‘relationship shopping list’ – these are the non-negotiable characteristics that their partner must have. As you can imagine, there is some prioritisation that is involved. Here are some samples from one of my female clients that ran to over 25 items

• Over six foot
  
• Built like a fridge/freezer
  
• Huge weiner 
  
• Oxford/Cambridge and/ or Ivy league education
  
• Ability to get in a physical fight and win
  
• Likes spooning
  
• Not cheap. Duh.
  

Etc etc.

I force people to focus and prioritise – to get down to their top three non-negotiables. Though many women have a super huge shopping list, I’m always surprised at the number of people who have not even really considered this – particularly men. They really need to sit down and think about it. But this is crucially important, you wouldn’t buy a Playstation 3 if you wanted to play Halo and Gears of War! Personally my non-negotiable three are loving, sexy and trustworthy.

What about yours? But strictly only your top 3!

Something for the ladies # 25

Ladies: If there's ever been anything about men you've wanted to know but were afraid to ask, or wanted a male viewpoint on a certain relationship niggle you're going through, drop an email to us at todger dot talk @ googlemail dot com. We shall pick one out and answer it to the best of our capabilities.

This week's question...

Anonymous writes: Hello lads,

I run my own business and I've recently sought the advice of a fellow business owner, who has been very generous with his time and given me a great deal of financial advice. I want our relationship to be more than professional, but I don't know how to subtly find out is he's single (there are no obvious signs like a ring). All of our correspondence is very professional and via email, and I desperately want to break down that barrier without making a fool out of myself.

When we first met at a networking event he looked over at me three times while he was talking to someone else, so I know that there is some degree of interest on his part. I feel a sense of urgency with this before our relationship enters a "strictly professional zone". I think so highly of him that I would be happy just being his friend if he didn't feel the same way that I do, so I know I need to act carefully. I'm 25 and he's 31, and I think he likes to see himself as my mentor.

Any bright ideas please?

Sam says: OK, there is some serious strategising that needs to happen here. Firstly, you need to remember that when a guy meets a younger girl in a business context we tend to lean on the side of caution. There is nothing worse than getting a sexual harassment suit from a younger woman to make your life a misery. What this means is that you need to discreetly take the lead and make it clear you are interested.

Step 1 – Gather intelligence

Do you have any mutual professional contacts? If so, discreetly ask if he is married or has a girlfriend. If you don't have any, then next time you see him as something like 'Is your wife involved in business as well?' You'll quickly find out whether he is single or not.

Step 2 – Get him out of the business strait-jacket

It’s crucial that you meet up outside a professional context. The easiest way to do this is to ask if you can meet up for a drink after work for him to give you some advice on business topic X. A bar is what anthropologists call a 'liminal' space – a place where the rules of outside society are temporarily suspended. Translation, you are allowed to flirt with business colleagues there. When you get there for the drink as quickly as possible move off business onto personal topics. Also, flirt like crazy with him. The more flirting the better.

Step 3 – Get a bit sozzled and have a snog

Alcohol plays a very important role – it allows you to do things you wouldn't otherwise try and get away with it. I would suggest when going out to drinks aim to get a bit sozzled and then at the end of the night, when saying goodbye, rather than offering your cheek, tip you head to one side, lean in towards his lips and let him close the deal. If it all goes wrong you can always blame drinking a bit too much booze. If it goes right, Hurrah!

‘Mr Sex’ says: Right then, I’m going to be the angel on your shoulders and hit you off with the other side of the coin; yes, he was checking you out at that networking meeting, mainly because a) he’s male and b) those things are boring as fuck. Personally, if I were at something like that and a balloon with swastikas drawn on it with marker pen floated in the room, I’d be thinking about shagging the arse off it, just to alleviate the sheer boredom of it all.

The problem is, this is still a work relationship, even if you’re self-employed, and there’s still a degree of professionalism needed – after all, if it goes horribly tits-up, it’s going to have a serious effect on your working relationship. At best, it’s going to tip the balance decisively in his favour (after all, if he sees you as your mentor, he already feels he has a degree of power). At worst, it’s going to break it completely.

So my advice to you is to follow Sam’s advice, but add Step 0 – be a bit more chatty in your e-mails. Initiate a bit of random banter with a PS, or something like that, so you get to know him a lot better whilst basking in the safety of hiding behind a monitor. The benefits of this are that you can subtly steer the conversation in the direction you want without committing to anything, and having the time to think about what he’s said and what you want to say in return. All the info you need to know will be revealed in time, and you’ll have a far better idea where you stand without risking your professional relationship or making an arse of yourself.

Readers of TT – comment!

Danonymous Dan: Into the lionesses’ den

I once had the misfortune to work as a freelancer in an all-female public relations office. Me, the lone rogue male, thrust into their midst like a sacrificial slave. Lunchtime was a daily competition about who could eat the healthiest salad – the shocked, jealous stares engendered by my M&S sandwiches were the highlight of my day.

This agency was ‘trendy’ in the painfully-boring way that PR agencies try to be (one PR agency I worked in had sand on the floor of its meeting room, another forwent chairs for beanbags), with its point of trendiness being Unisex toilets. It was a mere two days before I got told-off for leaving the toilet seat up. Already rather irritated by the job, and knowing it was only a two-week contract, I decided to argue my case. I posited that a group of strong-minded career women should really be able to manage the lowering of a toilet seat. If they weren’t looking before they sat down then it was a problem with their own personal due diligence practices – after all, I didn’t just walk in and start pissing on a lowered seat without looking.

“Look,” said one of the senior account directors, a particularly po-faced harridan – pregnant at the time, although how I have no idea how – “It’s just basic manners.”

I’m pretty sure toilet seat etiquette is not included in any manners books, but it does bring me to the wider point. The reason I mention the toilet seat thing is because it’s symptomatic of ‘a woman’ expecting that ‘a man’ should do something for her simply because she is ‘a woman.’ With the advent of equality over patriarchy is it not time to start looking at the balance of ‘manners’ that govern social interaction of the sexes?

It’s fashionable to think women are happy to go ‘dutch’ on a meal, but as a guy you still worry that raising it as topic will lose points. So what is the real deal these days? What are the new rules? Should a guy automatically let the women go first, and ensure he’s holding the door for her? If it’s cold is the man supposed to give up his coat? No women I know has turned up to a date with a gift of flowers for me, not that I would want flowers, but the same garages men buy flowers from also sell charcoal briquettes and plastic footballs – I’d happily accept either.

I know I am being facetious about this but I guess what I’m driving at is if things are more equal (or to become so) then men should be in line to have a more equal share in the social niceties. Social rules we use find their route in the patriarchal societies of the past. They were designed, unconsciously I assume, to reinforce dominant male, inferior female stereotypes, “You can’t refuse him, its his right, but at least he holds the door and lets you into the bedroom first, what a gentleman.” Do we still need them?

One girl I know who earns well over £50K, but if her boyfriend suggests she dip into her pocket for anything she turns into a bile-spitting harpy, because as a woman she should be ‘looked after’. If we mock her, she looks to her beleaguered boyfriend to defend her tight-fisted behaviour. I know, or have had the displeasure to meet, various such women. I freely admit that part of me quite likes the ritual of it all, acting the gentlemen by going through social motions, but another part of me would like to say fair's fair – let's see consistent equality with the ladies taking the initiative 50% of the time.

Sam: The pain of first love

I was chatting to a guy at a party the other day and he came up with a great story. (There are some real benefits to being a Love Doctor, either people spill loads of great love related stories, or swear I am really an accountant pretending to be a love doctor as a cheap pulling trick.)

Apparently he had only just got over his first real love. He was in his late 30’s, so was not a quick healer. When he just started University his parents hired a Swedish au pair for one of their younger kids. Blond, beautiful, buxom and apparently very skilled in the bedroom, he as a spotty young Englishman fell madly in love with her. Towards the end of his university degree she decided that she wanted to go back to Sweden and demanded that he come with her. Rationalising that he needed to finish his degree, and perhaps not quite realising how good his first real catch was, he decided to stay and that was that. He never really quite recovered.

Fast forward about 18 years later and bring on the joys of Facebook. She found him, got in touch and dropped him an email saying she had been thinking of him all these years and invited him to come to Sweden. She of course was a bit worse for ware and had a couple of kids in tow from previous boyfriends. Apparently this was enough to unbreak his heart – that she wanted him, and was no longer the glorious goddess that he held in his mind all those years. The relief on his face was something to behold.

First love is one of those things that burns and hurts not quite like any other love you have. And it is strange the things that let you move on. What was your first love? How did you get over it?

Sam: That other woman

The other night I was at a charity party doling out love life advice to punters and as usual was keeping a keen eye on the antics going in the crowd. One thing that particularly caught my eye was how the most attractive woman in the room kept giving me looks in between dancing with the guy in the Lion suit. Got to keep up the old skills, teachers got to be able to do too, etc etc, I rationalised (translate as, lets go and have a chat with her and get a bit of an ego rub even though I’m taken).

Anyway, I wander over and we start chatting. Now this girl could have had any man in the room. Turns out the Lion, just like me was taken. In fact she has spent the entire night flirting with taken men. A quite attractive single guy was showing some serious interest in her as we chatted. When I asked her, she dismissed him, saying ‘no, he’s way to keen’. She then proceeded to complain about how the only men who ever approach here were they taken ones (that’s because you pick them, flirt like crazy and reel them in like fish honey – I had to bite my tongue on that one).

What is it about these women? Why do they un-erringly pick out men who are taken? I can understand it to some extent, men, and women in relationships are attractive. They are getting regular action, they are usually happy and confident, and most of all, not at all needy. Then there is the biological thing of saving time and searching for a mate by picking one that other’s already find attractive. But the problem is, if you are a plan B, 95% of the time, the man stays with the other woman. Lady readers, can you enlighten me more on this one? Lads, any thoughts?