Mohtalim

Well the Greek Isles anyway.

Internet on the ship costs $0.75 per minute. Yes, 75 cents per minute. I'm typing this in an Internet Cafe on Santorini, where 60 minutes costs E3.50 (E for Euros).

I was checking my e-mail yesterday on the ship, and a hot girl walked up the escalator beside the computers. She smiled at my general direction so I wanted to follow her up but I had to log out or else I'd find a massive charge on my account when I came back.

Of course, by the 30 seconds it took to log out I couldn't find her.

That's my only story so far.

Oh Greek women are hot.

Oh Alan, where art thou?

I miss you deeply.

Make sure you use the 'I'm going to school to become a doctor' card.

I was looking for her yesterday until I realized that I forgot what she looked like.

That kind of shows how many hot women I've seen on the cruise and in Greece.

The first thing I noticed when I came out of the tunnel into Philadelphia's airport was how many damn fat women there were. Why can't American women look more like European women? Spain, France, Greece, Italy, and even Croatia have tons of slender, hot women.

Blah.

The girls on the cruise were hot, but most of them were there with a boyfriend/fiance/husband, 5 other hot friends, or were foreign. I can talk to women I have no interest in, and I can talk to women I do have an interest in if it's just one on one, but add anything like friends or an inability to speak English and I'm hopeless. Of course.

For example.

Hot women are a part of the natural scenery at Mykonos. There were so many that I stopped noticing them. We ate lunch at a seaside restaurant at the port, but that's not the important part. At the table next to us were two very hot Australian girls, and next to them were two hot (not gay) Italian guys. This is pretty much how they managed to pick up the Australian girls with their very, very limited English:

Greek waitress (also very hot): [Brings a plate of spaghetti to Australian girl #1] Here is your spaghetti.

Italian guy #1: Oh you order spaghetti!

Australian girl #1: Excuse me?

Italian guy #1: [Gestures to the food] It is spaghetti!

Australian #1: [Giggles] Yes, spaghetti.

Italian #1: I order spaghetti too, but Italy has best spaghetti.

Australian #2: [Giggles] Of course, you must be Italian?

Italian #2: [His English is much better but I can't make out what he says as he strikes up a conversation with Australian girl #2]

Italian #1: His English very good, mine is very little!

Australian #1: Much better than my Italian!

Italian #1: You must go to Sorrento, best spaghetti is there.

Australian #1: Oh haha, actually we're going home tomorrow morning.

Italian #1: Oh too bad, you must sleep early?

Australian #1: Yeah, our flight is at 6.

Italian #1: Next time you come to Italy, you come with me to Sorrento, yes?

Australian: [Giggles] Sure.

Italian: [Gestures to girl #2] She is your friend?

Australian: No, we're sisters.

Italian: [Surprised, and I am too] But you are so...different!

Australian: [Laughs]

Italian: [Leans toward girl #1] Your eyes, they are very nice, they are like...the ocean!

Australian: [Swoons, starts undressing in preparation for wild lovemaking]

Well she didn't actually start undressing but she most likely did later that day. And that last line that the Italian guy said was verbatim, though delivered in a much more halting fashion.

Compare this with my encounter with my dream goddess taken human form as a Sicilian pastry shop...cashier type person girl.

Me: [Walks down the street looking into shops]

Pastry girl: [Looking gorgeously stunning as she smiles, enticing me into her shop. It works.] Buona sera! [Some other stuff in Italian or the Sicilian dialect that probably means, "How can I help you" or something to that nature.]

Me: Uhhhh. [Points at something that is probably a canoli.] This. Uhhh...questo.

Pastry girl: [Still smiling, an image of perfect beauty] Ah, un canoli! [A bunch of other stuff in Italian that I can't possibly understand.]

Me: [Looks confused] Yeah, uh...si.

Pastry girl: [Hands me the canoli, says more stuff that I don't understand] Un Euro cinquenta.

Me: [Tries to remember if cinquenta means fifteen or fifty. I hand her the contents of my pocket, a Euro and 20 cents.] Cinquenta...?

Pastry girl: Cinquenta.

Me:

Pastry girl: No no no, cinquenta. [Opens cash register and looks at it, probably considering showing a fifty cent coin to the stupid foreigner.]

Me: This is all I...uh...no cinquenta. 5, uh, cinque Euro?

Pastry girl: [Bites her lip while considering (OMG SO SEXY), then pushes away my 5 Euro and takes the 1.20] Sconto! [I swear to God, it was the most beautiful utterance of any word I have ever heard]

Me: [Confused] Sconto? Sconto...oh discount!

Pastry girl: [Smiles, nodding] Grazie, [more stuff in Italian I don't understand]

Me: Uh yeah, grazie. [Turns around, embarrassed, walks out of store never to return]

Now if it were the Italian guy talking to an American pastry shop girl, the last part of that may have gone something like this.

Girl: Thank you! I hope you enjoy your apple strudel!

Italian guy: Thank you! [Takes a bite of the strudel] It so...nice! It like heaven in mouth, like you in my eyes! You are like ocean, and apple strudel like gift from Poseidon!

Girl: [Swoons]

But I am not smooth like Broken English Italian Man. As the cruise ship pulled out of the harbor I thought, "I should've gone back there with 30 cents."

Alan wrote:Pastry girl: [Bites her lip while considering (OMG SO SEXY), then pushes away my 5 Euro and takes the 1.20] Sconto! [I swear to God, it was the most beautiful utterance of any word I have ever heard]

With all the Alan's failure story this one is the saddest. You are already there, but you couldn't communicat to get your dick in her pussy

either that or she was thinking about ripping you off or taking pitty on you stupid foreigner

alan's cream pasteries are delicious

This is why you're supposed to carry around a piece of cheap, but sparkly jewelry... You could've bartered the piece of jewelry for the 30 cents and her.

The reason the Italian guy can get by with vacuous comments on spaghetti is because he is Italian and he is talking to stupid American girls who secretly came to Europe as part of some far-fetched fantasy that they would meet some fabulous European lovers. The Italians know this and they are just playing the role of the fabulous lover as a service to the gullible American girl. In exchange, the Italians get easy pussy for spouting more cliches like the Mario Bros.

For obvious reasons, you'll never be able to pull off the spaghetti strategy. But maybe if you leverage your Asian roots in an equally shameless manner you might have a chance. Start injecting Confucius into your dialogue. Just make shit up -- it doesn't matter. "Confucius say: when shoppe keeper forgoes money the seeds of friendship are in good soil". Stuff like that. Refer to the beauty of the Huang river. And for effect, once you get good at this shit, throw a couple of "Bonzai!"s in there like you mean it.

Good Luck!

Ummm, he's in Europe, so he could always try to play the rich american card. He won't have to say anything. Of course, being 30 cents short makes that impossible. Now, if you only had a 100 Euro bill...

Just head to the eastern european countries. Greencard kthx