International Selection

In the time I have spent so far in my life with the opposite sex, I have had a lot of wacky misadventures, really great moments and stuff that is so deeply  horrifying you wouldn’t believe me if I ever decided to be my characteristically open self and tell you about all the details.

There was the woman who on a first date told me about the several abortions she had.

Then at another point in time I was told by a woman that my resemblance to her dad was a turn on. During that insane night I said I had to use the bathroom and subsequently left the diner. Knowing how hat shittingly insane she was I bet she’s probably still waiting there for me.

This article isn’t about them. Instead, it’s centered on another curious part of my life. For some reason, women from the nation I grew up in never find me attractive in any particular way.

Sure, during high school it was probably due to my abrasive nature and contrarian way of doing things, but the lack of draw has persisted and perhaps even magnified since that adolescence.

In college, I met other Canadians who were also studying alongside me. I asked one lady out once and her response was “I’m single but I’m not desperate.” I sighed, took the bus home and spent the rest of the night eating pizza until I matched with an American girl on Tinder.

On a side note, god bless Tinder.

During one recent misadventure, the only other Canadian I was traveling alongside found me a tad off-putting and if my memory serves me correctly also thought I was clinically insane. And yet on the way back to North America I was propositioned in the airport by a lady from Ireland.

Now, I can understand how this would make sense if I were a woman traveling to another nation (As standards of beauty for females can be vastly different in nations as close as Israel and Jordan.), but as a man it is deeply strange. I mean, masculine beauty is fairly standard globally.

Long hair, height, a decent level of physical fitness, I have only one of these things. In general I’ve always thought of myself as fairly average, but perhaps I am utterly incorrect in this view.

Perhaps, as my Mexican friend once said, I’m “Midnight Manpretty”.

Bottom line is I don’t see the phenomenon stopping any time soon. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice. But also deeply strange and befuddling to me, Canada is essentially America’s hat. This frozen and desolate place has no unique identity; culturally things are really just the same.

That’s what I used to believe until I got into my 20’s. Up here, I’m visually the equivalent of a pissed in shoe with two hobo’s fucking in it (Thanks Deadpool!), but somehow stateside and overseas I’m a manly bit of manliness that a whole lot of ladies want to spend time with.

The contradiction will never cease to amaze me.

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