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Roger Rabbits with |
He has the hands of a blacksmith – big, vice-like, scarred and calloused.
But…oh my! He is also blessed with the touch and tenderness of Casanova himself.
“And,” says the sickeningly smug partner of umpteen years “…he has lived by the convention of putting women first, of pleasuring the woman first”.
What a Kiwi bloke? What a lucky woman?
But taihoa! This isn’t an excerpt from some steamy, erotic novel or sex manual. It’s more an examination of the nation’s manhood. And if we believe what we are hearing, it’s in a sorry state.
Because, as lovers, we Kiwi blokes don’t even rate a pass mark, just 4/10. We are the world’s worst lovers. And as Billy Joel once said: “A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is better than bad sex”. Which means a snack is more satisfying than a sashay in the sack with a Kiwi bloke.
Perhaps I should ask ‘lucky woman’ if I can sub-contract out the blacksmith – take him on a ‘show and tell’ tour around the country, offering pointers to transform our diehard Kiwi blokes into Don Giovannis, that legendary Spanish libertine who made seduction his life’s work.
A fantasy
The story of the Don was fantasy, as is, probably, the information on which this story is based. The 4/10 scorecard was lifted from an online opinion piece … “according to surveys” it said. And bald statements like “it’s no secret Kiwi men are ranked poorly in the world’s shag Olympics.”
No-one can verify it. But it’s about the taboo ‘s.e.x’ and our inadequacies, so it’s worth exploring, albeit superficially and salaciously.
“Bollocks!” harrumphed one aging Adonis from down the Avenues. He’s dripping with old farming money, a retired stud from a Waikato stud. “I’ve been married the thick end of 60 years, fathered five children. That speaks for itself.” Does that count for more than 4/10? He carried on harrumphing, shifting uncomfortably and embarrassingly from one butt cheek to the other in his Lazy Boy.
And not once, so he claims, had his performance between, or even outside the sheets, been questioned or criticised. What a bloke.
I wanted to say “bollocks” to this whole notion too. Bollocks as in arrant nonsense, not men’s bits. Although they are directly implicated in his story.
How do ‘they’ know we are crap in the sack? Who did the survey? How did they do the survey? How did they arrive at 4/10? Who did they speak to?
Certainly not my partner.
I can’t remember her ever leaving the light on so she could fill out a questionnaire on performance, passion, tenderness and endurance.
My survey...
I did my own survey – talked to a few women, the ‘victims’, in this story. ‘Jane’ just rolled her eyes. “Yeah! Most blokes are in it just for themselves.” A general murmur of consensus around the room. “I have lived overseas, so I am in a position to make judgements. It’s a universal issue, men only care about their own needs.” That would make blokes feel better. It’s easier being a failure in a world of failures.
Now a canny wee hinny, a Geordie lass, who has been living in New Zealand forever, fired back at the survey. “You’ve clearly been sleeping with the wrong Kiwis luv.”
The Tyneside girl says her first “meaningful” boyfriend in her late teens was Kiwi.
Then she had partners of various nationalities, as can easily happen in Europe. “But I married and had children with a Kiwi. What does that tell you about New Zealand men?”
Probably that we deserve much more than 4/10? Then the ‘hinny’ bared her claws and drew blood.
“If someone can sit back and complain all their partners have been crap in bed, then perhaps they should be taking a good long hard look at themselves.” Ouch!
Dining out
Another woman likened New Zealand men to dining out. “If you have a bad experience at a restaurant, you don’t go back again, do you? Simple!”
Then you hear stories like this one. A local couple were out rekindling their love after the birth of their first child. He took her to Subway. She then suggested a walk hand-in-hand around the Mount to add a hint of romance to the ‘foot long.’ He took her for a stroll around Kmart instead.
“That would certainly work for me,” said another woman. “I’ve been around the Mount! Done that! But I can always find something new and interesting to do in Kmart.”
The author of the 4/10 story also suggested New Zealand men should get a pedicure if jandals are part of their uniform. Well, excuse me. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. My brother wore industrial work boots without socks for 30 years.
When a podiatrist told him he had the ugliest feet he had ever seen on a 40-year-old, the bro beamed with pride. And he continues to put the story around.
Now here’s some more research. A survey of 2000 women revealed that men who are relaxed and rhythmic on the dance floor, also know all the right moves in the bedroom. And before you get too smug Kiwi lasses. You only rated 6/10 in the passion stakes.
