Culture hungary

June 12th, 2013

The Effect Of Americanization On A Hungarian Girl

By

This past weekend in Budapest I was given a clear look at how Western influence can ruin a society.  These two dates took place on consecutive nights, allowing me to see how much of an effect the westernization virus can have on a society.

The Meet (Sabrina)

Wednesday night I go out in Budapest and it’s a horrible cockfest—70% guys and girls are unattractive and bitchy.  Went to numerous venues and the same everywhere.  I break out my jump to conclusions mat, think Budapest is horrible (note: it is not — I was dead wrong) and the next morning go to my default back up plan of trying to set something up from the country’s online women.  They have OKCupid in Budapest? Ok odd but why not.  Message a few girls, get one bite and we agree to meet on Friday night for a drink.  She has the standard annoying profile I’ve come accustomed to in America.  When I confirm the plans, she texts back “no need to repeat yourself.”  So much for being nice and making sure the language barrier does not cause confusion.

She is late for drinks and texts me “Don’t give up!”  I tell her what I’m wearing and that I’m outside, she texts back what she’s wearing and she’s inside.  I go in, she’s cute but in a loose blouse, jeans and flats.  She’s got just a tad of softness to her body, a dangerous sign of impending fatness.  She works in project management.  She is full of sarcasm and quick retorts.  She is fully Americanized.

The Meet (Petra)

I realize quickly that I was wrong about Budapest.  There are very hot girls around, and some sweet ones too.  It was Friday night and I was at the apparent top club in Budapest, notice a tall slender blonde standing by herself.  She is tall, long hair, very thin and wearing heels and a black dress.  Go up to her and tell her she looks bored and should join me for a drink.  She agrees but apologizes because her English is not too good. I tell her it’s ok and pour her a glass of champagne from the bottle that cost me as much as a single drink would cost me in LA.  She smiles at me and has to resort to her phone to use google translate. We chat a bit and then she has to go because her ride is leaving.

We set up plans to get drinks for the next night.  She is also late, but texts me saying she is sorry because the trams were delayed.  When she arrives, she apologizes about seven times for being 15 minutes late.  She is a bartender.

The Date (Sabrina)

I ask her what she’s drinking and she says beer.  She grabs that 0.5L beer and has no problems drinking it like a German beer enthusiast.  We grab a seat outside, and when the waiter comes to tell her it’s closed down she tries to convince him to let us stay by flirting.  Didn’t work.  We change venues and she goes to the bathroom and makes sure to take her phone with her.  When I go to the bathroom and come back, she is on facebook and texting people.

We are standing at the bar and a girl asks if she can move over a bit so she can place a drink order, and Sabrina retorts that she’s not moving and there is space on the other end of the bar.  When I can’t understand something she said because of her accent, she inquires if I have water in my ear.

The Date (Petra)

I ask her what she’s drinking and she says champagne.  We get a bottle of champagne and sit outside in the same bar area.  Her phone is out for google translate for the entire date, and not a single text or facebook check was made.  She asks me if it’s okay that she doesn’t speak English so well — I tell her that’s perfectly fine.  She tells me about her family, how she likes to cook and so on.  When Petra goes to the bathroom, she leaves her phone on the table.

It comes to pay the bill and the waiter is nowhere to be found.  She goes around the restaurant looking for him and when we finally pay, she makes sure he gives me the right change back and not try to take advantage of the tourist.

My Place (Sabrina)

I invite Sabrina up for a drink and she agrees.  After listening to her gab for 2o minutes, make out with her and try to escalate.  She stops me and says “just so you know, we are not having sex tonight.”  What? How does she know the typical American girl I’m-going-to say-this-so-I’m-a-not-a-slut line? Nonetheless she told me about a million times how she was to wake up early the next morning for work, so the night had to end.  Since I wasn’t that into her and had friends at the night club already out, I didn’t push it.

She agrees to walk me to the club.  On the way there, she runs into her ex-boyfriend.  She just completely ignores me and after a few minutes, I tell her I’ll find the club myself.  She goes okay and continues talking to him like my hands weren’t fondling her breasts 20 minutes ago.  The next day she texts me that she couldn’t make our previously agreed plans of hanging out again because she ended up fucking her ex only got 2.5 hours of sleep last night.

My Place (Petra)

I invite Petra up for a drink and she agrees.  We kiss rather soon, but she will not let me go any further.  She tells me in broken English that this is our first date and this is not appropriate.  Eventually I tell her that if she wants to sleep over she can, and no sex.  She goes okay and changes into my shorts and a tshirt.  Sex followed soon after.  She gave no porn star demands that I’ve become accustomed to with American girls, just smooth nice sex.  Afterwards she curls up on me and falls asleep, waking occasionally to give me a light peck.  In the morning she types on the translator that she will go home now because she doesn’t want to inconvenience me.

And people wonder why some men go to Europe and never come back.

Read Next: American Girls Have No Game


About the Author

is an attorney and the litigation partner of his law firm. A traditionalist at heart, he travels often in an attempt to expose himself to as many cultures across the globe as possible. His column runs every so often and he can be found on Twitter as well.

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