This evening I’ve found something I wrote a long time ago – and just for fun decided to put it on my blog –
Yes, he is special. You cannot fail to blossom in his presence; at last here is a man who appreciates your womanhood, the real you that none of your English boyfriends ever seemed to have discovered. Never mind if you are ‘Miss Fatty of Newcastle’, or ‘Skinny of Cheam’, but it does help if you are not ‘Miss Anybody’s’. He has a line to sell that he works on lovingly through the long Winter months and it would be a pity if you were to acquiesce before he had the chance to reveal all the little tricks he has up his sleeve (and elsewhere).
When you reject him (as you must at first), he will assume the appearance of a Spaniel pup who has been unjustly punished, deprived of his food and kicked into the rain. He will haunt your doorway, your telephone, your peace of mind, until you wearily (though probably quite eagerly) give in, pat him on the head and give him the comfort he so longs for. He will do anything to win you. Be warned though, he can never grow up. You are the prize in the shop window. Once he has won you , he will promptly put you on the shelf alongside his other trophies and rush off to the shop around the corner, where there is another prize to be won.
Do not marry him. Have a wonderful holiday. Give yourself some unforgettable romantic memories. Then go home and find yourself a tall, handsome Englishman who will be your companion and friend (and with some luck, a great lover too).