Column: When in France...
Whether you're in a campus bathroom or France, sex should be fun.
Published April 20, 2009
"You can see the Eiffel Tower from here." A mere eight words, yet it's the most effective pick up line I've ever heard, with the least amount of effort involved.
When you think about it, the lucky rube using this line on many unsuspecting young American women, didn't have to do any planning.
I've seen this line work approximately four and a half times since I've been in Paris. And while I know most of you are largely disinterested in my "vin du pays"-filled sexcapades (chief of which being my boyfriend), it has led me to some remarkable realizations about coitus overseas and in general.
First off, always assume that everybody is screwing everybody else. Even in the most unsuspecting of circumstances, it's probably what your peers are thinking anyway. A perfect example of this came no less than an hour before I sat down to write this in a cramped Internet cafe. I went to dinner with one of my female friends to celebrate the end of our spring break. The chef kept coming over to us attempting to make friendly conversation in French. We didn't think anything of it until he brought over the check and all of a sudden asked which one of us was going to pay, my friend, or her "copine," aka me. I almost choked on my glass of wine laughing. You see, "copine" translates to "girlfriend." Sorry, honey, but you're not my type.
But this rule also comes into play when you're actually on a similar dinner date, or bar date, that you know will end in nookie. Assume that the debonair French man refilling your beer or putting his arm around you in the cold nighttime air already has someone else lined up on speed dial in case the night doesn't go his way. I had one friend raving to me about a one-night stand with a barman who worked not far from my apartment. Apparently, the sex was so good it made her want to burn her passport, don one of those cheesy berets and never come home. One week later, I just had to come with her to his work to see this sex god. Lo and behold, we arrived on his day off, and not wanting to make a mess of the night, we decided to hang around for a quick drink. Soon another group of English-speaking students stumbled up to the bar. One girl in particular was looking for this dreamy French barman she had slept with three nights before and just had to see again. You know how this one turned out.
Another tip, and I cannot stress this enough, is relax. Sex is supposed to be fun, and whether it's somewhere as exotic as a foreign country or as down-and-dirty as the new bathrooms in Walter Williams Hall (don't judge) you should enjoy it. I can't tell you how many times I've had Subway with friends "the morning after" (in CoMo and abroad) where they've lamented to me about how they were too nervous to get off. I personally find that completely unacceptable, and am usually not afraid to say that to their faces.
I'm 100 percent sure that your partner the night before was not self-conscious at all about their orgasm, because frankly, they rock. Why should you hold yourself to these inexplicable, and unrealistic, other standards? I have yet to hear of a single French person, man or woman, who is not willing to tell you, in damn near expose style, exactly what they want in bed.
And it should be no different for us. So the next time you're out with Mr. Right or Ms. Right Now, throw back your inhibitions with that next shot, be safe (please, for the love of God, be safe) and have fun!