The following is an excerpt from my new book American Pilgrim.
Madison was also full of attractive and naïve-looking young women thanks to the University of Wisconsin. My first experience with one was in a supermarket. I asked the female clerk for a bonus card to save a few cents on my shopping. She asked for my mailing address. When I made an offhand comment about being from “out of town,” she interviewed me about where I was from and what I was doing in Wisconsin. Telling her that I was on a massive road trip was all that was needed for her eyes to open wide and give me a long stare. When a man receives such a look, intimacy is not far away. It would have been effortless at that point to get her number, but instead I got my bonus card and walked off.
Later while at a Starbucks, a series of young women who were alone sat next to me. Two were attractive enough, and starting a conversation with them as an out-of-towner would have been natural. There were more young women on the streets and many of them made eye contact. These women weren’t the hottest I had seen, but they were cute and young. A six out of ten in Madison is an eight in many other parts of America, and based on the excessive public display of leftist catchphrases, I doubt they would have objected to casual sex. Maybe I received so much attention because the young men possessed an effeminate manner, making affirmative statements with the intonation of a question. The hours dragged on and the girls kept looking at me. They were dying to interact with a man! Why Madison has a flood of soy boys, whereas I hardly saw any in the cities of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, I do not know.
I knew that my lust could quickly be sated by the women of Madison, who were leftist enough to engage in premarital sex but not so leftist to be ugly. It reminded me of Poland, a country I had lived in for five years that had the exact same type of female. I could stay in Madison for one night and resist the temptation on willpower alone, but to live here would pose a great difficulty for me, because it was obvious that women would give me enough attention that I could unconsciously transmute into sex.
The women of Madison were so starved of masculinity that even a stony look could elicit their submission. In the afternoon I was on the street filming a homeless encampment for my travelogue. As I finished recording a clip, I heard the voice of a woman ten feet away saying, “Why is he doing that? He shouldn’t do that.” I put my phone away as she geared up to make another statement of complaint. Then I stood still and stared at her. Immediately, she looked away and stopped talking to her male friend, who didn’t look at me either.
The temptation continued in La Crosse, Wisconsin, even though it had a fraction of the university students as Madison. In my brief walk through the center, a beautiful brunette locked eyes with me. I had the opportunity to approach her with a basic “Do you know where I can find…?” opener, but I let the opportunity pass.
I went to the fast-food restaurant Culver’s for a meal. The young woman who served me was excessively friendly, as if she had targeted me specifically to release her affections. When I was leaving and walking out the door, she shouted after me to ask if I enjoyed the meal. She seemed eager to converse further.
At the cheap hotel where I stayed the night, the front desk was staffed by a woman with a thick Eastern European accent. Before I could ask her where she was from, she asked me. It turned out that she was from Iaşi, Romania, a city I happened to live in for three months, a fact that excited her. Arranging for some kind of date after her shift to “talk about life in Romania” would have been a foregone conclusion. I had been presented with a number of potential sexual opportunities for two straight days. In the past, I’d celebrate this fact and bless my luck, but now I cursed it and suspected some form of demonic attack.
If Satan wanted to get me, he could send an attractive girl to one of my events, and have her make it obvious that she wanted to engage in fornication immediately. It might seem that I was helping him by thinking this way but Satan already knew my weaknesses. He and his lieutenants had been examining me my whole life, and knew exactly how to trip me up. Without God’s help, I had no chance, and would fail on the very first temptation, but with God’s grace, I just might make it.
The above was an excerpt from my new book American Pilgrim, available in ebook or paperback. Click here to order your copy.
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