Why does Dubai attract so many tools? Or why do some nice, friendly blokes morph into tools when moving to Dubai, a bit like butterflies turning into caterpillars? I've ranted enough about the Expat Wimmin, now it's time for a rant about the driving force behind them, the Expat Blokes.
Firstly, let me introduce you to the single expat man. Usually an Emirates pilot or 'something in construction', these exhibit their toolness by hitting on Filipina waitresses and using chat up lines banned in the UK like 'do you come here often'. They also target pissed-up blonde estate agents from the Antipodes and former Ryanair stewardesses from the Eastern Bloc. Eager to show off his new found Dubai wealth, he will go on and on and on about his favourite subjects- Barasti, work and himself of course. For those reading who don't know Dubai, Barasti is a cunty beach bar kind of thing which plays contrived techno beats and is populated by people who wouldn't even set foot in a Wetherspoons back home, never mind a nightclub. They dance in a style reminiscent of dads at a wedding bopping to Hi Ho Silver Lining. For some reason, they think clubbing at Barasti will make them a celebrity as a few shite DJs have been there and some of the local rags take pics of clubbers. I like to call the patrons of this crappy place 'Barastards'.
What do these expat studs wear? Their plumage is usually those awful espadrilles they call Toms which look like something from Shoe Express circa 1993, a T-shirt from some shop which sounds like a foreign name for Air Mail and either skinny jeans that indecently show the bollockular region or some 3/4 trousers. Hot.
The not so single expat man will either be a selfless, kind soul who is into family life and has genuinely come to Dubai to better his family's life, or a fat, arrogant Fanny Rat with an equally annoying wife- the textbook Expat Woman. Let's discuss the latter as it's more fun. He will also be an EmiRATs pilot or more recently, a SlyDubai one, or maybe 'something in banking'. He will flash his HSBC Premier card like some sort of access all fanny areas pass, even if it is just to buy a few tins of baked beans and a Peperami from Spinneys. When he is chatting up single stewardesses and other bored Expat Wimmin, he will flirt with the ugly ones all the more and win them over with some politically incorrect, possibly racist jokes about other nationalities in Dubai. Despite coming off as modern to strangers, he is in fact of a 1950s mentality and describes his wife as 'her indoors', treating her like some sort of baby making machine. On his day off, he will frequent somewhere called Hotel Moscow, his dumb wife believing it is a cultural exhibit on Communism when in reality, it's a whorehouse.
So ladies, take your pick! Which British Expat man are you gonna pull?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment