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Yet when we leave it up to the men to captivate us, it seems too much to ask. With Valentine’s Day around the corner, it would be nice to reintroduce the romance to the party scene.
English men are lazy. Perhaps I am misled by the university student’s ultra casual way of dating, but I have observed a distinct lack of effort on the mens’ part during seduction. Men on the continent have mastered an art of flattery and chivalry that is lost on the British.
In Paris I met Louis in “The Queen”, a fancy nightclub on the Champs Elysées. For our first date (yes, in France they use the phone numbers they collect) he took me to a fancy restaurant, asked me all about my life and was genuinely interested despite my schoolgirl French. “Eh quoi? Oh oui!” Once back in his apartment he pulled out the champagne and snazzy glasses à la Nicolas Sarkozy and seemed in no hurry to get into the bedroom - until I dragged him there. It only lasted a week, but it was fun.
In the parallel universe of Tru nightclub, events unfold themselves to the other extreme. Watching the gorgeous boys roam around freshers is really very entertaining and seriously underrated. Their most popular technique is to bump into a girl on the dance floor, then in the shortest time possible get her away from her friends, over the couches for a quick snog then into the taxi and away. It’s even easier if she smokes - such an underused technique for extracting a girl from her pack. While this foolproof plan is seemingly effective, it is very much lacking in romance.
OK, so Louis initially kissed me in a similarly bluntly rushed way on a packed dancefloor knowing only my name and that I had an “accent anglaise trop belle”. But he had bought me a 10 euro cocktail, and the subsequent dates upped the romance a thousand times over. If we could bring the follow-up date back à la mode, then the one night stand would be much less pointless. I always find it such a shame to see so many amazing looking girls drunkenly reapplying make-up in the bathroom as a means to a few hours of fun.
Club seduction hit a low point for me last week when I was asked, “If I said you had a hot body would you hold it against me?” then offered half a bottle of VK. Outraged at the cheapness of it all (not only was he being stingy, but he was drinking lemonade!!), I asked the guy what other chat up lines he was planning on using that evening. He shared his favourite: “I’m no Fred Flintstone, but I’ll make your bedrock”. Ironically his name actually was Fred, but hopefully he didn’t make anyone’s bedrock that night - he wouldn’t have been much of a conquest for anyone.
With my standards resolutely lowered, I continued to search for Mr. Almost Charming around the dancefloor. The best I got was a cheesy line about my smile, an offer for a drink at the bar, and a sheepish, “Would you mind if I kissed you?” At least he asked.
On the other hand, at least British men are honest. They don’t hide behind false words or use their wallets to get the girls. They say it how it is. But perhaps for just one day they could step it up and bring some romance back to York. À la française.
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