You try to come across as a young Arab guy with a Western frame of mind. You ‟ ve watched tons of foreign films and TV series, and you know how it goes. The sitcom Friends has provided a complete picture of the girls who spend all day looking for knowledge and work, and all night for company, sex, and a boring romance on TV or a porn film. By day, she ‟ s a librarian or biologist dressed in prim clothes and prescription glasses: by night, an unbroken filly in need of an expert rider. You ‟ ll meet her for some small talk, then take her out to dinner to get to know her better. After dinner you give her a lift back to her apartment. She invites you in for coffee or a beer, just to be nice. And of course you accept in all innocence.
You might not score the first time, but it ‟ ll all end for sure in her florid bed, or perhaps on the sacred couch seen in every sitcom. Half-looking at the computer screen, you ask her in lame English,“ Do you accept my invitation over dinner?”
You understand Linda ‟ s reply having put it through Google Translate:“ It ‟ s too soon for dinner. We don ‟ t know each other very well yet. I can ‟ t disregard the Blue Book just because it ‟ s you.” Of course you ‟ re dying to know what the Blue Book is. She tells you it ‟ s just a book with a blue cover. But you keep trying to get further information out of her, and your picture of this Blue Book becomes clearer with each response.
You try to come across as a young Arab guy with a Western frame of mind. You ‟ ve watched tons of foreign films and TV series, and you know how it goes. The sitcom Friends has provided a complete picture of the girls who spend all day looking for knowledge and work, and all night for company, sex, and a boring romance on TV or a porn film. By day, she ‟ s a librarian or biologist dressed in prim clothes and prescription glasses: by night, an unbroken filly in need of an expert rider. You ‟ ll meet her for some small talk, then take her out to dinner to get to know her better. After dinner you give her a lift back to her apartment. She invites you in for coffee or a beer, just to be nice. And of course you accept in all innocence.
You might not score the first time, but it ‟ ll all end for sure in her florid bed, or perhaps on the sacred couch seen in every sitcom. Half-looking at the computer screen, you ask her in lame English,“ Do you accept my invitation over dinner?”
You understand Linda ‟ s reply having put it through Google Translate:“ It ‟ s too soon for dinner. We don ‟ t know each other very well yet. I can ‟ t disregard the Blue Book just because it ‟ s you.” Of course you ‟ re dying to know what the Blue Book is. She tells you it ‟ s just a book with a blue cover. But you keep trying to get further information out of her, and your picture of this Blue Book becomes clearer with each response.