On Dating Oxford Boys

I would not be lying if I told you I went on my study abroad to Oxford University expecting to fall in love with someone resembling Hugh Grant or Colin Firth. You can imagine my disappointment when the Oxford students did not look like Prince William pre-balding, nor did they look like Harry Potter circa Prisoner of Azkaban. Imagine a 14-year-old who has yet to have braces but whose dad has a lot of money causing him to have the confidence of Jude Law. That is your Oxford student.

Just kidding, they weren’t all bad, but boy do I have stories about some.

For one, their stereotype of American girls is that we are all easy to get into bed. You think just because he has a charming accent that he’s actually into you? Wrong. He’s just trying to see your knickers. Then, when you disappoint them by not falling under the American stereotype, they say, and I quote, “Oh, so the Southern Belle thing is actually true?”.

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I know. I couldn’t believe it either. For someone who is supposed to be so intelligent, why are they so dumb? Is it just a guy thing? Internationally, do all men just have some level of ignorance existing within them? We have yet to find out.

But, the best story of all, happened on one doomed night in the middle of October. I assume that this is why they call it spooky season because I am still traumatized and not yet recovered. Mom, if you’re reading this, stop right here.

There was this guy, we’ll call him Tim, and he was a graduate student at Oxford University. He’s kinda cute, charming, took me to dinner, blah blah. While I found him somewhat unbearable, my head was in the clouds due to his being, as I said, a student at Oxford University. We go to dinner, he gets us a bottle of wine, and we have good conversation. I am sitting in my chair in disbelief at the fact that I am in ENGLAND on a date with a guy who goes to OXFORD. I’m already planning our future and how intelligent our kids will be. It was difficult for me to even pay attention due to his drool-worthy accent. Finally, we make it through dinner and go back to his place to watch a movie. I know, my naivety is beginning to show.

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He soon realizes I actually planned to watch a movie, so he goes to the bathroom before getting situated. And then the worst happens. No, he does not clog the toilet, boy I wish he would’ve. He walks out of the bathroom. And. He. Is. NAKED! This OXFORD student has NAKED MANNED me! Now, I should get a reward for my composure during this moment. I mean, what does a girl do? You really think you know someone until they take all five layers of their clothes off (unsolicited) after your first date.

Logically, I laugh pretty hard. And then I get out of there. Pretty sure I said I had to study? He offered to walk me home, sweet boy, but I kindly declined. I then proceeded to call as many of my friends as possible and laughed until I cried. Or I cried until I laughed. Honestly, it was a very traumatizing experience I’m surprised I even survived.

So Tim, wherever you are, I wish you the best with your endeavors. I’m sorry we could not work out. It was flattering, truly, but maybe I’m just not British enough.

Anyway, I know this is all one big generalization, and I’m sure your likelihood of being naked manned is small, but just in case, never go home with a boy after an innocent date no matter how charming his accent.

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