Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.
Fearing another German summer spent unloved, in a romantic and naked sense, I recently took advice from that fountain of knowledge Glee
and decided to try to be something I’m not: conscientious.
Berlin is notorious for its citizens’ strong political views and rightly so! Having been put through more history stress than Dr. Sam Beckett, they can be a baffling bunch to those raised in more indifferent political climes. Plus chicks dig dudes who are into “issues”! I have targeted a number of the city’s fringe groups as part of a hard-hitting exposé, in the name of journalism and sexual gratification.
Please be aware, what follows is disturbing, desperate and 83% true.
At first I feared this subject might be the most difficult to blag, but what at first seemed like a daunting task was in fact a total doss!
Politics cover such a wide range of bewildering subjects that I worried the activist-fitties might smell my fear, even over their dreadlocks. Fortunately I was born without fear – or common sense – so I waded crotch-deep into the political arena throwing opinions around like used tissues in my bedroom. Off I went, beer in hand, following all the young protesters down to Potsdamer Platz…
“CSD Berlin 2010. Schwule gegen Westerwelle.” by ЯAFIK ♋ BERLIN under Creative Commons licence: Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
After some quick Google-translating I managed to work out that everyone there was unhappy with how some people are being treated somewhere else… So we stood around for awhile, drank some beers and shouted at the Polizei (who we really don’t like). I soon realise all the Frauleins already have exactly what keeps me awake most nights, caked in sweat: boyfriends.
I’m not sure if we did ever save those poor people in wherever but I’m sure Captain Planet heard everyone loud and clear. But I must admit the dreadlocks are a problem for me, ethically speaking.
At first this was the one group I was most eager to tackle as it seemingly involves little to no effort. After a quick peruse of Wikipedia I realised that just saying you’re a feminist is
Now before your undergarments start playing Twister let me supply just a few examples of why I should be crowed Ultra Mega King of The Feminists. (Please note I have made the following into a simple list for our female readers…)
- Today I opened a door for a lady.
- I think Joss Whedon writes women really well.
- I have never, ever punched a girl. Except during Street Fighter.
- Once I dated a German girl.
- I firmly believe that the women’s section of H&M is far superior to the men’s.
- I listen to Sleater-Kinney.
Unfortunately my new palace of equal opportunity fell to rubble as soon as I realised it was no longer forward-thinking or even mildly attractive to treat women as equals. Turns out, everyone is doing this already. Bastards.
“Slut Walk 2011053” by JamesReaPhotos under Creative Commons licence: Attribution-NonCommercial 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC 2.0)
So what have learned this time, dear readers? Again, shite all. Perhaps you will take some comfort from my recent experiences/traumas and not pretend to be something you’re not just to get laid. Personally I’m all for gentrifying the streets of Berlin until a normal, dull woman pops out from under the ground naked and covered in gentrificate.
Until next time my fellow Sexpatriots, keep on gentrificating.