- Culture
- 03 Dec 03
Kati Kula, Finland.
I haven’t had sex with a Finnish man for years now. Well, I know this is not so patriotic. But the reason for the lack of sex with the Finns might be the amount of sex I have with the Irish.
I just can’t get over Irishmen and when I come to Ireland, I’m ruined. I don’t claim that I don’t let my hair down sometimes in Finland too – but I sure do in Ireland.
Last time though, I had great difficulties having sex in Dublin. First, everything was going smoothly in a nice suburb of Dublin, with my old fucking buddy Rob – but then mummy and daddy came home and I had to split. I was staying in a hostel and sharing a room with my friend, a Swiss girl, and a couple of guys from Korea and New Zealand. I could have had sex in there, but this time the neat cut side of me won and I didn’t try to sneak into the hostel with an Irishman (sorry to you all who were staying in the same room in a hostel in Killorglin during the Puck Fair with me and Steven – especially Jude in the top bunk!).
There were many efforts to have sex – you know you can have it anywhere actually, if you’re lucky. But on this occasion we weren’t! We tried to have it in the small street near that club we went to, but there were people walking by and it was sort of a turn off in our moment of passion. Except that guy who sang to us, “Love is a beautiful thing”.
After the street incident, we went to have fries in a kebab place. An innocent idea of going to the toilet together crossed my friend’s mind. The staff unfortunately had the same kind of dirty mind, and switched off the lights when we entered the ladies’ room. What a pity. I left first, head up and looking like someone who has never ever had sex. Okay, I’m exaggerating, I didn’t even try to look innocent. And I didn’t leave my knickers behind even though the guys at the door thought I might have.
We had had enough for one night. It was exhausting trying to have sex! But no worries, we did have our session before I left for home sweet home, Finland.
It was my last night, and I actually met another Irishman, with whom I would have liked to have sex and more sex. But I was so committed to my old fucking buddy that I didn’t even think about dumping him and going with a new one.
I kind of wish that I did, because I tend to have this pursuit of romance and love in my mind sometimes and that guy left me wondering if he could have been the one. But hey, let’s get back to the sex.
It was very simple after all. He had a car. I might have diminished the value of the car by making bumps to the ceiling with my feet, but we finally had sex. It would have been a pity if I had to leave without having sex after all that struggle in the streets of Dublin.
Until the next time!