P** B*** and Pushy Pests (*edited at Mum's request)

P** B*** works. Especially when used in conjunction with I****** tablets. I know a lot of you may think this is overkill but I have always been desperate for a tan. Growing up as the 'white chicken' of the family is no fun, surrounded by dark haired people who tan easily and don't have to deal with comments like, "I thought you were on holiday? Was it not sunny?" was rubbish. But lately, since my 3 weeks in India, I've been tanning more and with my new found lotion and potion I'm actually going properly brown. Not just my usual freckly and golden but properly brown. People who don't know me are even commenting on my nice tan which is a first. All my hard work lying on the beach for hours every day has been worth it especially since I've had to deal with the aforementioned pushy pests.

American men are forward, desperate, pushy and don't take no for an answer. Last night I was meeting Mindy at the North Avenue Beach House to reshoot some material when I was approached by some random asking if he could borrow my cell phone. Taken by surprise I agreed (yeah, I know it's unlike me) and he made a call looking for his brother who didn't answer. It was only later I realised this was a crafty way of getting my number without directly asking for it. He spent the next 20 minutes (my cycling is getting faster so I was early) talking about how he was just back from Czechoslovakia (doubt he can even spell it) and how different it was to America. Duh! At one point he even said how weird it was that black people and Asian people spoke Czechoslovakian! Oh my God! Really?!? You mean they speak the language of the country they're from?!?! Wow!

After him rambling on about this and me checking my watch every 5 seconds waiting for Mindy he pops the question: Did I want to go for a drink. Sorry, no. Why not? Well, I'm meeting my friend tonight, I have a boyfriend and I'm just not interested in ignorant midgets who think America is the centre of the universe (ok, the last one I just said in my head). Another 10 minutes he stood asking the same question. Take the hint mate, NO.

Then again at the beach today, 2 young guys set out their towels and CD player (Maroon 5!) quite near me before one of them comes over with a piece of paper with both their numbers on it for me to choose which one I wanted to go out with. I didn't even take the piece of paper and they still spent the next 10 minutes saying where each of them would take me for a date. I was looking for Cilla and our Graham with the round up.

I'm enjoying being here, I know just enough people to hang about with and still have my moments of anonymity but the pushy pests are getting on my nerves. I can't imagine this unrelenting technique of chatting someone up would ever actually work but it seems to be the main method here. Very strange.