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Abroad dating

When we met at college, little did we know that between the two of us, we would spend the next few years living in five different countries (U.

S., France, China, Australia and England) on four different continents .

During that time, we dated some weird people, made some questionable choices, and occasionally fell flat on our faces while trying to flirt in a second language.

Now that we’re both living in London, we’ve come to view these dates fondly (though it took longer for some than others) and started cataloging the good, the bad, and the extremely strange men that we dated.

These are the strangest eight things that happened to us while dating abroad: RACHEL: 1.

Some Guy Thought I Was A Witch: My friends and I were dancing with abandon at a shitty Irish bar in Paris because sometimes those are the only bars you can get into.

My friend Sarah and I had been too shy to date anyone during our time studying abroad in Paris, but we felt bold so we wrote out notes in terrible French (“I never do this, but here is my phone number”) and dared each other to give them to the first cute guys we saw.

I dropped mine in the lap of a tall blond guy and ran away. He was Swiss-German, on vacation, and didn’t speak English; I had been in France studying abroad for less than two months. I Never Got The Joke: A few years later, I was teaching English in Paris.We spoke in broken French and then made out like crazy in a booth at the bar. I told him (I think) that I wasn’t a sorcerer and hadn’t cursed him. A Spanish student (tall, dark and handsome) from one of my English classes asked me out to see “a concert.” His English was high school-level; so was my Spanish, ergo we spoke in French.The next day, on the train back to Switzerland, he texted me that I made his penis hurt. The “concert” turned out to be a musical comedy show in French and I understood nothing. I don’t remember a single damn thing about that performance except Pablo running his fingers up and down my arm and me shivering. After the concert, all of a sudden, he just pulled my shoulders towards him and dove in for a kiss, but I was smiling and it was unexpected so we hit our teeth together in the process.“Now it won’t be awkward later,” he said, smiling, even though it was totally awkward at that moment. He lives and works in New York now, though, so I guess I was a pretty good English teacher. I Learned to Always Get a Full Frontal View: I once spent an entire night in Paris chatting to the cutest guy, who was charming and urbane and took me and my friends to a chic cigar bar in one of the most expensive parts of town. I Turned Down My Own Personal Masseur: In Paris, a neighbor tried to strike up conversations with me. rocks.” (He didn’t speak English and I don’t know the French word for ‘knots’).He looked like Clive Owen and I spent the evening sitting next to him, chatting away in my pidgin French, curious about what our French wedding would look like and what we would call our French children. He started showing up at my door with trays full of food around dinnertime. Several times a month, I would get this text message: “massage?Then at the end of the night (I’d been sitting on his left side all evening) the lights came up and he turned to face me. He reeked of cologne, used way too much hair gel, wore lots of gold necklaces, and was unemployed. i have the very good hands ;)” Those messages made me feel :( He was the one reason I wasn’t sad to leave Paris and move to London. I Could Have Married The Chinese Michael Jordan: I got stranded inside of a Starbucks in Beijing during a massive summer downpour.I made the mistake of eating with him the first time, after which point he tried to kiss me and I ducked under his shoulder. When this happens in Beijing, the streets flood and it’s impossible to find a cab.He tried to kiss me again and I ducked under his shoulder again. As the rain was pouring down, the tallest and largest Chinese man in the entire world started talking to me.He said, “I can tell you’re an American because of your shoes.” (I was wearing flip-flops.) I had literally nothing to say to him, so I just looked at his long legs and asked, “What are you, a basketball player or something? There was no sign of the rain letting up, so he persuaded me to have dinner with him (the Starbucks was attached to a fancy hotel).” It turns out that he was – he played pro in the U. That’s how I ended up having an impromptu three-course meal with a retired professional Chinese basketball player.I remember in the elevator on the way out, I could see our reflection in a mirror – I came up to his thighs.

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