What’s with the Foreign Accent? Because, I Really Want to Hear More.

I’m a sucker for foreign accents.  Especially if the accent is coming from the lips of an attractive male, relatively close to my age, and clearly single.  Ooo-la-la.  Throw in proof of dual citizenship, a Denver address, plus a full head of hair…and this american kitten is smitten!

I admit I have dated a handful of foreign men.  “Nic” was my first foreign love – an adorable German fighter pilot who I met early in my journalism career.  Distance ended the relationship, but I felt lucky living up my own version of “Top Gun.”

No…I don’t go for the “dark and handsome” latin-lover look.  (I’m tooo pasty white for those sun-worshipping types!)  Instead, I prefer the slender European man, outfitted with refined stature, and topped off with “oh-so-sexy” high cheekbones.  Yes, we would make beautiful children.  The kind who end up in the J.Crew catalogue.  Happy sigh.  Or plastered on a Target billboard.  Double sigh.

So imagine my delight when I bumped into a “certain someone” last week at sultry Second Home (lounge bar), in Denver.  I had JUST put my coat on…about to exit the dark premises…when I caught a fixed sexy glance from a tall, classy looking guy.  Instead of looking away like a schoolgirl, I stared right back, waited a few seconds, then sauntered over with purpose.  I would either float – or sink- and I was willing to take my chances.  After all, when you’re searching for Mr. Right, who cares if you get blown off by multiple Mr. Wrongs?  (Having two strong cocktails certainly didn’t hurt either.)

He saw me coming and smiled.  I then busted into his mini circle of men, and bravely said, “Heeeelllo…”  Noticing my coat, he teased, “You’re not leaving already, are you?”  I stopped in my tracks as his words floated out of his mouth, MESMERIZED by his “I’m clearly not from the U.S.A.” accent.  Aahhh…my international man of leisure…right here in good ole Denver.

It only took me about .3 of a second to whip OFF my jacket and come face to face with Mr. International Man.  Conversation ensued and he divulged in his syrupy accent, “I’m originally from Belgium, but I’ve lived in the states for 19 years.  I live and work in Denver.”

Yes ladies, I love Belgian beer, and crave Belgian chocolates.  But hands down, I could easily adore and get addicted to a Belgian boyfriend!

As we continued chatting, I became oblivious to his work colleagues – he became oblivious to my girlfriends.  I was giggling – he was laughing…when out of the blue he asked, “So when do you want to go snow skiing?”

Those words, my friends – MUSIC TO MY EARS.  Not just the accent part, but the “skiing” part.

He grabbed his phone, plugged in my digits, and it was a painless “done deal.”  Looking over my shoulder, I noticed my galfriends…aka…loyal wingwomen…sprawled on a couch, bundled in their jackets, clearly ready to leave the bar since it was almost midnight on a school night.  Miranda jumped up, walked over to Belgian Boy, then put him on the spot, “So, did you get her phone number?” He looked somewhat started by her directness, then answered, “Yes.”  She looked at me and stated, “Good to know.  Now Leaza, it’s time to go.”

As I followed Celeste and Miranda to our car, I smiled…replaying THAT sexy accent over and over in my blond brain.  Maybe he thought my somewhat southern accent was hot in return?  Hmmmm….Doubtful…but hopeful.

Later that night, I wondered….What if Belgian Boy was NOT from Belgium?  What if he was from Chicago?  Or hailed from someplace like Des Moines?  Would I like him as MUCH “sans” the accent?  Would I still be intrigued?  Did his accent provide an advantage over american men??

Truth be told….I probably wouldn’t be AS smitten.

I look at it this way – a foreign accent is kind of like bubbles in a bubble bath. (Dudes, quit reading now.)  Sure, you love a hot soak when you’re feeling tired or depressed….but add some bubbles, and suddenly things turn tastefully more fun.

Body Shop, anyone??  And don’t forget the Chimay.

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In case you’re wondering….Belgian Boy did call.  And he’s a darn good skier….

I'll take a Belgian Man over a Belgian Beer!