Courtship and dating in spain
All you have to do is go up to them, act a little shy and say, "Whould hyou like to go with me, Signorina, for a café?" I actually have to thicken up my accent a little, but they never, ever catch on.I remember one unforgettable night in Athens, I sat and listened to a Greek sailor for hours as he told me about the countless men who fought over Helen back in ancient times.Afterward, he told me he loved his homeland even more now that he'd seen it through my eyes.They tell you what's on the menu and what you should try.(If it wasn't for a certain young man in Milan, I never would have discovered fusilli a spinaci et scampi.) And the whole time, they're looking deep into your eyes, like you're the only woman on the entire planet. Then, after a moonlit stroll along the waterfront and a kiss in the doorway of their artist's loft, you find yourself unable to—well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
They know the whole history of the cities in which they live—who the fountains are named after, who the statues are.After a cheap coffee, which to them always tastes better than anything they've ever had, because they're in Europe, it's time to walk them.Now, all they know about Rome is what they've read in Let's Go, so you can pretty much just make up a whole bunch of shit.The French countryside was like something out of a storybook, the Roman ruins were magnificent, and the men, well, European men are by far the most romantic in the world.You American men all think you're so suave and sophisticated. European men make you look like the immature, inexperienced little children you are.
Once, just for the hell of it, I told a psychology major from the University of Maryland that a public staircase was part of the Spanish Steps, which she'd never even heard of.