A Broad Abroad: Foreign Relations
While psyching myself up for a single life in London, I filled my head with images of dashing Hugh Grant and Daniel Craig lookalikes, charming me with their debonair accents and Savile Row suits.
But last night, while out on the town with a couple of girlfriends, I realized I’d forgotten one major perk to living in a big metropolitan city: foreigners!
This breed of men, in my experience, tends to be dark, tall, and handsome, with a passport hailing from the likes of Spain, France, or Italy. Their English is “notso gooda” but that only seems to heighten the flirtation factor. When you can’t exchange witty bons mots, there’s only one thing left to do… Think of it as the perfect between-relationships palate cleanser.
Last night, the girls and I hit an upbeat Brazilian dance club. I was ordering my second mojito when a creature seemingly ripped off a Calvin Klein billboard struck up a conversation. I managed to get out that he was from Portugal and living in Brazil before he gave me the flashy double-cheek European kiss culminating in a right-on-the-kisser smooch.
I’ll spare you the sordid details, but let’s just say that this single gal is back in the saddle again.
Now, if I could just learn Portuguese…