Wednesday, May 03, 2006

The different flavors of men

Here are some interesting snippets of my male experience:

While walking in the streets of Makati, I came across a tall nice looking guy who deliberately stopped me on my tracks...

English guy (pretending he was lost and scratching his head): “Hi, do you know where [insert any street name here] is? I seem to be lost!”

“It’s over there, on the right corner.”

English guy: “I’m quite new in Manila...” --- And he further rattled off eloquently albeit with style (ah, a typical Brit, good thing he didn’t start calling me darling, love and sweetheart). “Do you by any chance have a calling card?”

Something tells me he is a playboy. Later, I found out that he actually worked in the building right across the street, for a year already.

And while passing by a busy construction site full of sweat drenched Filipino workers...

“Pssst! Pssst! Miss! Psssssssssssttt................!”

Goofing around with not-so-sober-yet wannabe quids, as Limoncello would succintly put it, in Leidseplein Amsterdam, right in front of the Boom Chicago Theater.

This was taken more than 2 weeks ago when we went out with American friends.

At work with a colleague...

American guy (again pretending he had something to do in the floor where my office is and was passing restlessly by my cubicle area): “Hey, that’s a nice picture.”

I turned around, “Uh, what?”

“I mean that picture… hanging above your desk...”

Okay, the poor guy was actually trying to make some small talk. I dated him a few times and found out later that he was divorced and with a kid. Let’s just say I prefer a bachelor without a kid.

Another colleague at work...

Filipino guy (his cubicle is on the other side, we are neighbors): “Have you checked your e-mail this morning?” he mumbled shyly when I ran into him in the copier room.

“No, I just got in and need these copied first.”

Then I checked my e-mail and saw a bouquet of red roses --- virtual bouquet of red roses. I really did not know if I should laugh. I never knew he had something with me. Guffaw.

And here is another colleague who was visiting from our Malaysia office...

At Hardrock Café during dinner and after a few hours of trivial chit-chatting and flirting, he started to digress.

Malaysian guy (he is actually Eurasian): “I am having problems with my girlfriend...” and he babbled on backbiting his supposedly monster-eyed freak of a girlfriend and that he is seriously thinking of giving her the bad news (read: I am dumping you) when he gets back to Malaysia.

Hmm, I am not an expert of the male psyche but surely I am not naive. Does he really think slamming his girlfriend will make me want to have a one-night-stand with him? He must be dreaming. Time to wake up. Where’s that damn alarm clock!

Having dinner in Shangri-la [lobby restaurant] with a girl friend...

A tall Arab looking guy approached and bowed in front of us, “Good evening, His Excellency would like to buy you a drink.”

Perplexed, my friend and I were throwing weird glances at each other. We were caught off-guard and tongue-tied, I mean... what did he say again? -His Excellency? Huh, what or who is that?

Anyway, we found out that the main Arab figure who eyed us was a high profile minister of one of the Arabian countries. He actually had a band of bodyguards trailing behind him. I guess he fancies a sultry hanky-panky ladies’ company that night. Too bad, we were the -quite prude- types. After an hour of excessive bantering-flirting with us, he gave up and left me with his calling card (he was indeed a minister) with his hotel room number scribbled in it, while his head bodyguard left his too with my friend.

Uh, the bastards were horny. If they wanted sex, they should have gone direct to the prostitutes! ---You think because of your stature, power and money, you can sweep us both off our feet? Here is a big -DUH- for you.

While shopping in the Turkish market...

We heard clapping of hands and shouts of “Hoi!” (or it sounded like hey) in the background.

Then I saw a group of Turk guys across the street waving their hands franctically and flashing a huge grin at us.


My American girl friend said, “Let’s ignore them and they will hopefully stop.”

Oh yeah right.

While doing shopping in Hoog Catharijne, supposedly the biggest mall in the whole of the Netherlands (yeah it’s a joke if you see it)...

Dutch guy: “Hallo Miss… ” He said in a somewhat fluttering tone while side stepping and joining me in my walking rhythm. “Woon je hier in Utrecht?” [Do you live here in Utrecht?”]


Dutch guy: “Ik ook. Ik woon alleen... maar ik heb een hond op thuis.” [Me too… I live alone but I have a dog at home].

“Okee...” *thinking* - What are you up to now?

Dutch guy: “Mag ik jouw telefoon nummer hebben?” [Can I have your telephone number?]

I stopped and faced him, “Ik heb een vriend...” [I have a boyfriend…] And before I could finish my sentence...

Dutch guy: “Oh sorry!” And he was gone in a split of a second.

I stood there just shaking my head. He was fast!!!

While sitting inside the train...

Afghan guy beside me was checking me out. I then saw him took out a chewing gum. He chewed on it for a minute or two before throwing it into the trash bin.

Afghan guy: “Hallo, wat is jouw naam?” [Hello, what is your name?]

Okay, I thought I will be friendly and gave him my name.

The next thing was he started talking about where he lives, that he has a job, that he has enough money, and that --- he is interested with me. Yeah after meeting me for just... what... 5 minutes? To top it all, he kept blowing his breath against my face as if telling me, -hey baby I have nice smelling breath (thank you chewing gum), so take me.

I’ve told him NO many times, yet he still kept going on like a fully charged energizer bunny. Perhaps he doesn’t want no for an answer?

Well I was pretty damn sure the other passengers were secretly laughing.

While walking alone in the streets of Spain...

I noticed that someone was following me and when I reached the pedestrian stoplight, true enough the culprit emerged behind my back.

Spanish guy: “Buenas tardes senyorita bonita...”

“No habla espanol!” I said shaking my head.

Ignoring what I said, he continued his discourse in Spanish.

“I said, NO HABLA ESPANOL! Adios!” and off I scurried away. I understand Spanish a little bit though.

I don’t know but for some reason, the Spanish guys especially the older ones are really very assertive. It seems that hitting women is the national sport in Spain. If say, you are standing in a busy street corner, waiting for a friend, they will not waste their time to approach and befriend you.

And let me say this too, they aren’t frugal in the women appreciation department.


Some men indeed have their rear-ends up on their heads. More to come.... soon.

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