Ok so I’m not married. No one moves that quick! But I have started wearing a wedding ring so, if anything is going to prolong my dry spell that will. Currently my love life is as dry and barren as the desert surrounding my new home.
So why am I purposefully fending off the opposite sex? Because I have lived in the Middle East for one week and the horny locals have driven me to pretend I am hooked up for all eternity.
I was well aware from my last trip here that men have no shyness when it comes to approaching women. I have also now discovered that age, size, clothing and attractiveness have nothing to do with their reasons for approaching you. You have breasts and no wedding ring and you’re from the West, therefore you’re worth having a crack at. My first day here I noticed people check my hands for a ring and drivers slowing down to have a better look at me before beeping their horns.
One evening I decided to go for a walk around my new neighbourhood with a friend. So as not to draw attention to myself I wore jeans, trainers and a loose fitting polo shirt with my chosen rugby team’s emblem on it. Hair up, the morning’s now worn make-up and I was suddenly a far cry from how I’d usually leave the house. Did this stop the attention? No.
Firstly I accidentally made eye contact with a 20-year-old local. He spotted the shirt and called out asking if I played rugby. I shook my head and continued walking, briskly, down the road. He followed me, calling out at me to turn around. After a while I realised I’d have to answer him. He questioned me about rugby and invited me to watch him in a tournament and asked for my number. I explained my number wasn’t working (not a lie) and showed him my phone saying ‘no service’. Then he wanted my email address. He was persistent I’ll give him that.
I eventually escaped without handing out any contact details. Two minutes down the road a car slowed next to me and the driver wanted to know if we were lost. He must have been late 50s/early 60s and I was thankful for his concern. Although after explaining that no, we weren’t lost and were just enjoying an evening stroll (ridiculous concept in a country of mad drivers and no pavements) he asked if he could take me to a juice bar. I did a double take. This man wasn’t concerned that we were lost, he was trying to pick me up! And that’s when I struck gold and said:
“I’m sorry, I’m married”
And with those four words he was so apologetic and drove off. I saw him again after he’d parked up and again he kept apologising for assuming I was single. The locals may be horny but they respect the sanctity of marriage a lot more than some nationalities. And so that’s now my cover and I have taken to wearing a Swarovski ring on my left hand, sparkly enough to ward off even the most persistent of men.
Although I’ve had it easier than some of my blonde colleagues. Especially the girl that walked down the Gulf Road alone and had phone numbers thrown out of car windows at her. It seems if you want a boyfriend then come to Kuwait. If you want a quiet life then pretend you’re married and avoid eye contact.