Expat Gone Wild: How to pick up a Dutch guy

Mar 4, 2012 | by Caroline | Art

About the author

Caroline (25) is a writer, an expat enjoying life at its fullest in Amsterdam and a girl born to party. She makes her Friday night plans no later than Monday morning and enjoys drinking verse muntthee just as much as hot-people-watching in the city.

They ride their trashy Dutch bikes like die-hard rickshaw cyclists in India, they know that going Dutch is synonymous for “baby, pay your own bill” and they stalk their naked neighbour in his curtainless flat just like he is stalking them. They are expats gone wild in Amsterdam and I am one of them! Let me share my stories about a foreigner’s life in this glorious town. You’re in La La Land before you know it.

Part 4: Time to grow some balls

This one goes out to all the fun-loving and outgoing expat and non-expat girls living, loving and partying in Amsterdam! Have you ever wondered how on earth Dutch guys manage to get laid? I seriously do it all the time. Not because I think Dutch men aren’t handsome enough. In fact, plenty of them are. At least all of my girlfriends from abroad would probably kill for being surrounded by that many tall and well-built males every day. One vacation in Amsterdam, several broken hearts.

I mean something else. As good-looking as Dutch males might be, they are somehow seriously accursed. And I mean seriously. Nine out of ten Dutch guys don’t hit on girls. Can somebody please explain why? Did they all suffer from traumatic experiences due to having uber-confident, psychotic ex-girlfriends? Didn’t their mum teach them how to wear the breeches? It’s a mystery. Even though I agree with my dear colleague Sabrina that lame pick up lines don’t do the job either. And yet, believe it or not, I know that plenty of expat girls would leap for joy if Dutch guys could at least give them a lame ‘YOU! PSSSST! psssssst!’ in a club. It’s a topsy turvy world out there.

Give it a go or… go for the tourist

However, fellow lasses! If you don’t want to give up on Dutch guys yet, there might be a way out of this deadlock. Give it a shot and hit on your object of desire as follows:

Walk up to him and tell him straight into his face that he caught your eye. Otherwise it might take him light years to understand why you are staring at him like a creep. If you keep on staring, he will surely scream and run away.
Be straightforward, but not too keen. Dance with him! Get him a drink…or four. Liquoring him up might be the most expensive option, but hey! It might lead to scoring a handsome husband and a fancy bakfiets packed with your cute Dutch babies one day.
Don’t you ever, EVER touch his hair! He spent three hours in front of his mirror to get that certain kind of aqua-wave in there.
Don’t talk in mysteries. If you approach him in a club with a “Hey, what about you and me having breakfast together tomorrow morning?” he might need a dictionary to understand that you actually don’t really give a damn about having ham and eggs with him but you really like his well-defined biceps.
The last resort: Forget about all that and pick up some innocent and good-looking tourist. Since he doesn’t live here, it saves you from constantly asking yourself why he never texts you back! Thank God there are plenty of them in Amsterdam.

Postcript: Hey jongens! Maybe this hunk of a man can teach you some…