My husband and I have a German friend, Gunther—late 30s, good-looking, smart, funny, and a genuinely nice guy.
Of course, he’s single.
A few weeks ago, we were hanging out together, pondering his romance woes over a few glasses of wine. But it wasn’t the preposterous fact that he was still unattached that lingered in my mind. It was an observation he made based on his visit to San Diego a few years ago.
“I think it must be difficult to make friends with a woman in the United States,” Gunther said.
Immediately, I became skeptical. What exactly did he mean by this?
Gunther explained: “My friends were out of town for a few days, so I went–alone–to a bar for a drink. There, I struck up a conversation with a woman. We talked for a while, and at the end of the night, I walked her home. She wasn’t my type, but I enjoyed her company, so I asked her to meet me the following evening at the bar.”
I thought I saw where this was going. So, I asked, “Did you buy her drinks?”
Gunther couldn’t remember, but admitted that it was a distinct possibility.
He met the girl the next night, walked her home after a few hours, and again asked her to meet for drinks the next day. By the third night of seeing each other, after they got to her house and he started to leave, she became angry.
“What’s wrong with you!” (According to Gunther, this was not a question). She followed up her statement with some colorful language and a few choice accusations. Naturally, Gunther was offended. But that quickly turned to bewilderment.
“What was her problem?” he asked us.
My husband and I shared a look and giggled.
“Third date. Sex,” I explained.