“10 Ways To Pick Up A Dutch Girl”

There’s a certain branch of feminist opposition to legal prostitution that warns of playing into the hands of male chauvinists.  The argument is that the rise of the industry itself is a by-product of our endemic patriarchy and does much to reinforce less-than-enlightened expectations of women as a whole (no pun intended). It is with such unnecessary baggage in mind that I refer to this particular article:

Those of you who have visited Schiphol, the Netherlands’ capital airport, in the last couple of months may have perused the latest issue of Amsterdam Magazine.  It’s a free publication, designed to attract the English-speaking tourist.  Naturally, within four pages there’s a full-page ad for an escort service.  But I don’t wish to seem too down on the city’s red light district and largely healthy attitude to sex.  It’s also unfair to connect the two with this fairly whimsical article on dating tips, but I did find it odd for an ostensibly progressive society to revel in such ostensibly dated attitudes.  Particularly as it’s nestled amongst what is intended as an interloper’s first taste of Amsterdam.

Kindly permit me to make fun of it…

Above the more egalitarian concerns of distributing the onus of a relationship evenly between all participants, the key piece of advice here is to be awesome.  Be awesome and say the right things, preferably at the right moment.  Not at the wrong moment, like on the loo.  That’s the wrong moment for almost everything.  Excited?  You bet I am!

This one’s pretty much a no-brainer; take some care with what you wear.  Open-toed sandals (and I guess flip-flops as well, by default.  Crocs? Borderline.  Can’t commit) are apparently something of a dramatic faux-pas in Dutch fashion.  For such a permissive society, they still frown on toes.  Where’s their union, eh?  We’ve a long way to go.

First off, anyone who uses the phrase “Got a light?”, especially when picking up women, needs to burn in a fire.  With that in mind, “Your place or mine?”, a bold opening gambit for even the most broad-shouldered drunkard, has to be an upgrade.  You know, already I feel humbled.  So many lonely evenings in front of QI with a Findus Crispy Pancake.  All this time I should have been actively asking women on sight to fuck strangers.

To be fair to this one, it did come alongside an adorable hand-drawn image of a man popping his head from a corner, with the word ‘BOO!’ in a giant bubble from his mouth.  So, perhaps there’s a sense of irony at play that I’m not properly honouring.  Nevertheless, the article states ‘don’t be afraid’ to try this particular tactic.  Yes, it’s silly, not to mention borderline psychotic, but it nevertheless belongs in your arsenal, alongside not wearing flip-flops and the phrase “your place or mine?”.

This is where it becomes the sort of thing  I got from people paid to give advice in job interviews.  The prospective employer might not be into sports, so don’t bore then with the latest footy results. ON THE OTHER HAND, they might be a raving Chelsea supporter (especially if the job is in Crouch End) so don’t leave out football entirely.  Try to talk and not talk about everything in the correct amount of time and tone, plus also don’t.

I also like the bit at the end about getting her blind drunk to increase your chances.  That’s a little nugget my job coach never got round to.

Not in the bath, you fucking pervert!

Here’s a new one; mild racism and outright duplicity. It doesn’t matter what you look like, just say you’re Italian and Dutch women will swoon like Emmett Brown. Would I have to put on an accent as well?  How long would I need to keep that up?  What if we get married?  I smell a romantic comedy!  Starring Kevin Kline!  From 20 years ago!

On Friday nights, I like to visit my local hole in the ground, say Bed Bar or Chameleon, spot a girl from across the dancefloor, her silver crucifix glints amid the fluctuating colours.  I sidle up against her, give a cheeky little wink, then yell “THERE IS NO GOD, YOU CREDULOUS BITCH!” in her lughole, before aggressively boogying to Sweet Like Chocolate by Shanks & Bigfoot, all up in her face, whilst yelling “WHAT! WHAT! WHAT!!”.

Overall, the lesson to learn is be confident. Don’t be passive, like the lowly Dutchman.

It’s also worth pointing out at this stage, in true Rod Sterling fashion, that the author of the article is a woman, who goes by the name of Caroline Goralczyk. That’s right, a woman! Not a man, like you definitely thought to begin with.  NOW who’s unenlightened?

In summary then, the Dutch tourist board is overly eager that you plough their women.  They’re strong minded and independent, but will fall for the most rudimentary solicitation from pasty-faced charlatans with 48 hours to slaughter.  Sandals and flip-flops are a no-no, even without socks.  Dutch women secretly wish to submit to you during intellectual combat, ESPECIALLY if you’re either Silvio Berlusconi or Jeremy Beadle.  No baths.