Indian guys, please stop already

*Goes for arab, african, etc guys too.

Anyone who wants to use this post as a reply when Indian guys come whining on Facebook chat, please do.

One slice of cheese is pure heaven. I mean, one slice of Cheese is pure heaven. Now eat 30, and suddenly it becomes a bit less so. I mean, I like people, I like talking to people, and I like people in general. I like talking about content and meaningful stuff. Too much of the same people however gets problematic quickly.

So I get, like so many with a female exterior, ceaselessly accosted by Indian guys. I mean it’s like a constant barrage on facebook. I go online, and one of these utterly 45 thousand in a dozen cartboard cutout mustached guys, all the same hair, all the same half open buttoned up shirt, most a “a bit overweight”, all imposingly polite, “they just want to get to know me and want to be friends”.

So I tried that, talking to these guys. Like in the last ten years a few hundred times probably, and I have amassed a massive statistical understanding of Indian guys and their grande plan. And when I say Indian guys, I probably also mean Pakistani guys, and an assortment of guys from africa, the middle east andsoforth. They start chatting, generally one after another, in a straightforward conveyor belt of polite inquiries in what I do, where I live, whether or not I have pets, what I do for a living, what suggestions I have for studies, if I would come over one day (I mean, Ralpindi is amazing!) and on and on it goes. It’s clear they signal another (“hey dudes, I am working on this one right now, if she doesn’t bite, you go try”) and they keep coming. It’s a bit like the 150th slice of cheese for me. But I still try to nibble occasionally and figure out what it is these kids want. And I am absolutely 100% certain their all want the following ..

a white woman being theirs, doesn’t matter if she’s over 40, they think you are “an amazing looking MILF”. I kid you not. They say that out loud. they use inside head words and say them. They don’t just want to be friends, hell no, they want to fuck, and fuck like utterly depraved, clinically psychiatric sexually barren, utterly inexperienced, angry hate sex, completely riddled with male chauvinist misconceptions, routinely porn addicted, half crazed with lust fucking. And when they read on my profile that I might be construed as sexually active, they just go NUTS. Try it, it’s an uninterrupted series of sexually escalating questions that will, give them half a chance, veer directly in to extreme forms of sexual deviancy.
Money. Indian guys, or whatever variant of that dujour, live as a rule in countries that are dismal and dystopian compared to where I live. I don’t envy them, and in fact it’s horrible what these kids have to endure. So, yeah I understand, they want and really need money. But they can not conceive of the idea that in “The Netherlands” someone would actually be dirt poor. These kids can actually become a bit annoyed, acting insulted when you claim you cant spare any money – that for me five euro is “next days food” most likely. Turns out Indians live in a haze of being convinced they are mostly a developing country, and the Netherlands is “developed” and is thus exponentially more comfortable than India. In some parts that might be the case, but developed doesn’t mean easy, not by a long shot. In terms of life pleasure, Netherlands is comparatively, contextually just as frustrating and daunting as any country in the world. If you live it, your mind instantaneously recallibrated to context. Yeah I know I’d probably be dead in a week having actually live and survive and work in Golgotta or Lahore. In the Netherlands I survive because I get a princely fortune of disability which allows me to like, eat warm 4 times a week. When I spell out the amount, Indians probably thing I am someone retired after a long career. It’s not, it’s subsistence level poverty here, no minding the fact you can probably buy a villa for that money over there.
They want OUT, right now. These kids would do anything (or they soon make clear implied or outright) to get the hell out of where they are. They have no clue what to do next if they were teleported here. I bet most of them would be starving hysterically panicked in a few days, utterly shellshocked and be deported back from whence they came. They’d come back with tales of “how horrible the Netherlands is” and “how strange habits these people have” and that “living here as an Indian guy is a nightmare” and “women there are cruel and all lesbians, as they want nothing to do with me“. It’s all a bit like winning the lottery, everyone things winning the lottery is “experientally”, fun. I guarantee you it is not. It is one giant ball of coagulated stress and disappointment and loneliness. The same is true of Indians, who glamorize the good western European life and golden land of opportunities. These kids are gruesomely mistaken and the vats majority of them who would actually arrive here would, even if they could stay, flee back in months, crying. That is to say the Netherlands is not much of an easier country than theirs. It’s probably much easier, absolutely. But they thing moving here is some kind of best they can achieve in life, especially having also #1 and #2 above.

The thing is for every Dutch woman with blonde or red hair and bright blue or green eyes, there are what, 150.000 Indian guys with all the same shirt, all the same fluffy black hair, all the same wiggly head motions, all the same moustache (we don’t like mustaches here, as a rule) and all the same honey up polite and insincere sounding conversation. I can’t help you guys. I really can’t even if you were the Indian variant of Leo Dicaprio, charming, witty, intelligent and a sexual tyrannosaur. There is absolutely no credible pathway for me to make any difference in your life, and after you invariably comes another in March Of The Clones, and my mood deteriorates a little in having myself and my petulant spoiled rotten first world problems, and how goddamn racist I apparently are. Because that is what I am, right if I get annoyed by a barrage of endless utterly desperate, bag of liquid marshmellow sweet and polite mustachey men? “

Guy: “So you are a promiscuous woman?”
Me: “Yeah but I am a male to female transgender”
Guy: “Do you still have a penis”
Me: “You are not really supposed to ask“
Guy: “So you do anal?”

Probably a little.

But guys, give it a rest. Change your strategies if you want to play this game, and significantly. You individually might think “what is this for horribly rude kind of witch” (bobs head left and right in a decidely stereotypical and marginally racist manner) and they don’t know the experience on my end. They don’t have a frigging clue.

Now – when I quote them this article, they do.
And then I block em.

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