EU and Me

Before moving to New York, my experience with Europeans was limited. Sure, the was Martin in junior high, who would mispronounce curse words at me and a few who shall remain nameless that I've had to clean up after from time to time, but in general I haven't dealt with them much.

Enter The Spot Hostel in Harlem, where I spent my first week in New York. There were folks from Down Under all over (not European, but foreign, white, and with accents that sound almost British. Gimme a break), a brigade from Britain, more Germans than at a David Hasselhoff concert (I realize two Hasselhoff references in a month is probably excessive, but I had to do it), and a general assortment of other Europeans.

It was awesome.

Now you may be wondering why I'm so excited about all the Europeans. After all, New York is full of people from countless cultures, why not be excited about people who are even more different, like that guy from South Africa, or the one from Alabama? The answer actually has nothing to do with expanding my horizons, or anything remotely noble. Basically, I've learned that European women like me a lot more than American ones do.

First, there was the cute Welsh girl (who, admittedly got a lot less cute once I realized she looked a lot like my friend's younger sister). She was probably the first person in New York that I had a legitimate conversation with. Then she flew home. Then there were the four German girls I mentioned earlier (see my note about the Hoff references). That wasn't a case of me inviting myself mind you, they wanted me to go with them to the Empire State Building. Let me shorten that. They wanted me to go with them. Let me shorten that again. They wanted me. But it didn't stop there! Then there was the Frenchwoman. We met when we both went to a Broadway musical during Columbia's orientation. It turned out to not be the same musical, but by the time we figured that out we were already fast friends. I'd describe to you what happened when we ran into each other at another event later in the week, but I don't want to make you blush. Okay, It's not so much that as I don't want to make you say "Dude, you were just there. That doesn't even come close to meaning anything."

Let's compare this to the interactions I've had with American women. To make this quicker and less painful, I'll limit it to those I've me in the same time period. This part's tough to write about, because I don't know which of the women I've met and then been ignored by to bring up. Really the best example is one I met this weekend. After finding out that we went to college an hour and a half away from each other, both grew up in the Bay Area, and were even born in the same hospital, she had to run. Something about washing her hair. Even I know what that means.

While I'm on the subject of Europeans, I have to share something else that happened over the weekend. I was waiting in an hour and a half long line for some overrated pizza, when part of the group I was with asked if I was from England. Because I didn't immediately know how to turn it into a joke, I said no. Then they asked where I was from, and out of that same lack of humor, I said California. Their response? "No, like, originally." Apparently I have a European accent.

I guess that explains the allure.