Let's Not Meet

Guess how many women I had sex with?

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A French women traveling in Beirut catches a taxi. Immediately, the driver starts speaking to her in an unwelcome way, asking her to guess how many women he has slept with.  She is not bothered, however, and leaves the situation only feeling sorry for the man.

Being a creep < not being a creep

If your goal was to make a woman feel uncomfortable, congratulations! You played yourself

My name is Charlotte.

Me: I will google common French names, and I will pick my favorite, and I will change it. This is how I do it.
Charlotte: I don’t have any social media, so you can say my name.
Me: It will still be fake.
Charlotte: Yeah, ok. So, it was funny, but it was thirty minutes of hell. I was taking a service in Beirut, a shared taxi. You saw in Beirut how the people are there, nice car and boys looking nice.
Me: A bit vain sometimes.
Charlotte: Yeah. My taxi driver was like this. At first, we were alone, and the guy straight away starting to hit on me, and not like, “Hey Habibi.” It was so absurd, so rude. I didn’t feel in danger, but it was bad because I spent thirty minutes listening to his bullshit. “So I heard that French men are very bad in bed.” Stuff like this.

After five minutes I said “I don’t want to talk with you. Stop talking.”
“Guess how many women I had sex with?”
“I don’t want to.”

Me: Do women like that? I don’t think women like that.
Charlotte: I was telling him that.

“You know, if you are trying to attract me, or light my desire, it’s not working! I’m not interested. This is sad.  I don’t care! I don’t care!”
“Guess with how many women I had sex…”
“I don’t care.”
“No… more than 100…”
“I don’t care!”
“More than 200…”

He was telling me, “Do you want to know what is my most amazing sexual experience?”
“No.”
“OK, I’m going to tell you.”
“I’m so sad for you, so sad.”

It was thirty minutes of this. It was bad, but he was just talking bullshit, it was so rude. I’m not saying the rude stuff he told me.

Me: I bet it’s… graphic.
Charlotte:  In the end, I was sure he was a nice guy, but he wanted my number.

“I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I don’t want your number.’”  And then I left.  “OK, bye bye!”

Me: I don’t believe you when you say “I’m sure he’s nice.”
Charlotte: No! I’m sure. I guess he can be funny, but he was just fucked. I don’t know if you realized in Lebanon, but girls and boys, especially in Beirut, have strange interactions also. It seems most of them hit on each other when they are super drunk.
Me: I’m not surprised. I got the impression it’s conservative still, there’s not a lot of casualness when it comes to relationships.

 

Sometimes you are low on cash, other times you are dead broke.

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