A sexual encounter with a Swiss
Yesterday, I wrote a post on male abilities between the sheets. If the male voice was shining with its absence, women were more forthcoming.
One in particular, C, wrote this absolutely brilliant comment on her experience with the Swiss, which I gather was in fact a singular encounter. Now the Swiss, like the Belgians, have an almost schizophrenic heritage and legacy, due to their lingual divisions. And in the case of the Swiss, the Germanic side mixing with the Latin makes it extra interesting but all the more complex. Now C, shared a few insights into this mysterious nation of men, whose sexual virtuosities I have only encountered in the literary world through Paulo Coelho’s 11 minutes (a book I warmly recommend by the way).
So with C’s permission I would like to quote her insights on the Swiss male population…
“Rather amusing I must say, even though I am not much for stereotyping such particular talent….or am I…?
Overleaf they do not mention the Swatch-making, cheese and chocolate -producing nationality and I must admit that the worst that I have ever come across in the bedstraw was, indeed, Swiss.
Perhaps you can, with a slice of imagination, before your eyes see a redfaced, gasping, sweaty, hyperactive Duracell rabbit that completely and utterly is lacking a sense of tact.
My disappointment was profound and I let him know about it in a rather ruthless way…., i.e. after my rather obvious facial expression and after the swiss Duracell rabbit had expressed his apologies (he was apparently aware that the awful experience was not adding up to my expectations) I replied in a stereotypically crispy and cold Swedish manner: “It’s alright….(long silent pause) ……all is not about sex (another long silent pause)”. I might, at that moment actually have looked like Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) in the movie The Devil wears Prada. I normally do have a heart, but I guess it was on holiday that day.
Shortly after this one time encounter I heard a little stereotypical story that amused me somewhat for the given reason. I would like to add it to the topic of the blog.
“Heaven is where the police are English, the cooks are French, the mechanics are German, the lovers are Italian and everything is organized by the Swiss. Hell is where the police are German, the cooks are English, the mechanics are French, the lovers are Swiss, and everything is organized by the Italians.” ”
C, what can I say. As always you managed to hit the nail straight on its head with your crisp tongue.
