I’ve met, dated, and tangoed with my fair share of men in Hong Kong. Only once in my Hong Kong career, though, have I met a guy not at a bar or while intoxicated where it was thought that we were worthy of each other’s attention. Maybe this is saying something about a) my drinking habits b) me as a whole or c) the pool of available, attractive, sociable men in Hong Kong. Since I only slightly agree with a and whole-heartedly disagree with b, c must be the only explanation possible for why I have yet to exclusively date (and by date, I mean have a relationship with, not sleep with on a regular basis) a guy in Hong Kong.
I am often ogled by the local fare here, but whether it be my long legs, blonde hair, or lack of ability to speak Cantonese, I have yet to have a local Hong Kong guy speak to me, let alone attempt to get my phone number (well, except for that one night when I was chased down the street by a guy in his pajamas claiming to be a world-famous photographer, but since that’s a story for another article, I digress). While there are many locals who find my blonde tresses interesting, there are seemingly just as many expats who find my baby blues the opposite of interesting. These guys are ones who are more into svelte, petite bodies, black hair, and brown eyes. Let’s just say that neither type of guy is tracking me down for a conversation.
Maybe the most undesirable of men worthy of a relationship are the guys who are simply visiting Hong Kong. Since their time here is limited, they seem to think that instead of exchanging phone numbers, we should be swapping spit. Yes, I have fallen for the ol’ “you’re gorgeous and I’ll totally Facebook friend you so that we can be pals overseas” line a time or two, it never lands me anywhere but in my bed alone the next weekend and with a new FB friend to stalk.
While on my nighttime escapades, I’ve met teachers, engineers, bankers, chefs, and bar owners, but the “career” I’ve run across most often is the football and rugby player. Though their rugged bodies, suave pick-up lines, and gelled hair have gotten me into a frenzy more times than not, I still have yet to wrangle one in and settle one down. The football/rugby player is more dedicated to his team than his job, his family, or his girlfriend (maybe we should not call it girlfriend, let’s name her “the girl I occasionally sleep with when I’m drunk”). I have met and/or fallen for the “team player” more than any other guy in Hong Kong. This all-about-me attitude is probably my cue to quit hanging out at my usual haunts and take cover somewhere classier, but I like to party and so do they. And while I’m celebrating the weekend, they’re celebrating their latest win with entire bottles of tequila.
I recently read in a USA Today article that there are approximately 60,000 Americans living in Hong Kong. Now, I’m not saying I need to date only Americans (because let’s face it, who can resist that British accent?!), but this statistic proves that there are bound to be more men out there who are willing to put down the football and pick up the ring finger of the best woman they’ll ever meet. And, if not, can someone at least approach me when I’m not tipsy, dancing, or already macking on some other bloke?