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But I've done a lot of travelling, and I must say that the relations between the sexes in Denmark are the strangest I've ever seen.

The women do everything: they initiate, they seduce, they even get on top, and the men seem to expect it.

The icebreaker of course, is alcohol, and I have little doubt that if it vanished from the Earth tomorrow Danes would never reproduce.

It didn't take me long to learn that in Danish parties and nightclubs, there was a window of time, roughly from 1am to 3am, where social intereaction was possible.

"I want to be scored," a drunken colleague once confessed to me. I know that when you choose to live in a foreign country, as I have, you must learn to adapt to local culture.

I have learned that expecting a door to be held open for me is an invitation to get hit in the face with a door. Or, as I now suspect, was he simply waiting for me to make the first move?

Three days after a single unreturned phone call, I got a tremulous email from him.

You haven't called I wonder if this is because you don't like me please , if I am bothering you, let me know.

Don't return a Dane's phone call (singular) and he will forget the whole thing.

The articles below appeared first appeared in BT, Denmark's most widely circulated tabloid newspaper.

When I first came to Denmarktwo years ago, people kept asking me what I thought about Danish men. Why didn't they ask what I thought about Danish weather (bad) or Danish food (bad), or, for that matter, Danish women and children? I soon learned their interest in Danish men was a variation on the famous German saying: Man spricht uber das, was man nicht hat.

Either that, or worse, he will sit home and sulk about it.

Last year, I briefly dated a good-looking triathlete, a guy with a hot job and a fancy car, the kind of guy that in New York would have arrogance preceding him into the room like a bad after shave.

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