The allure of the "gringas"

So I'm out with these Chileans. They have this strategy (quite effective, actually) of telling gringas that they'd reeeeally love to practice their English with a native (female) speaker, so maybe if we got together for some drinks, you bring some friends, and we all improve our speaking capacity, complemented by some Latin libations and Reggaeton atmosphere. Yeah, I know, pretty smooth. And we all fall for it.

So, like I said, I'm out with these Chileans. And yes, I brought some friends. But just imagine: you show up in a new country, the Chilenas sure as hell want nothing to do with us, our Spanish is slipping... so why not? They pay for a few Pisco Sours, they throw us some Spanish lingo, and everyones ulterior motives are fulfilled. Except the one about us going home with them. 

Right. So we're out with these Chileans, and I've got a question on my mind: what the hell is so fascinating about us gringas? Am I missing some exotic, sexy quality about our ability to butcher the native language, the loveliness of our shockingly pale skin, or is it just that we fall for the "I need to practice English" line? At first, the "preciosa"s and "mi reina"s were flattering, but when I started noticing the blatantly gorgeous Chilena across the street, allowed to walk in peace without the incessant joteando of Chilean men, I grew suspicious. If not the aesthetic quality of a woman, what else could it be?

"It's the stereotype of Americans. We know that you're not all like that, but Chileans watch American movies, or see gringas at the bars, and I guess they make their own conclusions. Also, gringas will say anything. Chilean girls are more conservative, or won't talk about certain topics with guys, even if they're close friends. But gringas will talk about anything."

I guess I couldn't really refute this after having just downed two Irish Car Bombs and finished a conversation about the smelliness of farts. 

"And I have this theory. I think flites (the Chilean equivalent of white trash... dark trash, maybe?) hit on gringas because they think gringas can't tell the difference. They just see all Chileans as sexy and foreign, but can't tell a good Chilean from a bad Chilean. So flites actually have a better chance with gringas than with chilenas"

Actually makes sense. But according to our host Rodrigo, we made the right choice in our Chilean selection. You see, Rodrigo has dinero. Just ask him. Or wait, because he'll tell you. Whereas the Chilean I met in Barrio Bellavista the week before probably is flite, says Rodrigo, without money or manners. Better to just stick with me, he says.

Well. By the end of the night, he had made passes at all of us, got us purposefully lost on the drive home only to say "well, I know where my house is...", and successfully managed to get NONE of us stuck with him. Compared to my date with the so-called "flite" last night, who took me to watch the Chile-Uruguay game, to a gay club to dance techno, and left me with a perfectly acceptable and tantalizing kiss on the cheek, Hot Rod got nothing on him. Seems like gringas will be forever guessing.