Couldn't help it

I call them the black men. They are extra friendly and i have a knack for meeting them on streets. They all seem to employ the same amorous tactics.

But something new has happened. I met two identities.

The first one i met went by the name of Santos. He was from the ever friendly land of Jamaica. I remember him having a slight accent. "We are very friendly, good people" he would tell me. Or he told me once. Also "You don't look like an Australian, you look like a Dutch."
He had spent time in Europe and worked for the UN. He owned two cars and liked telling me about where exactly he lived. He gave me his phone number because i convinced him that i didn't have a phone.

The second one i met was not sure what name to give me because he wasn't sure whether we'd met or not. "I remember you!" He said, "You look like a Dutch." He had spent time in Holland and was a musician.
He went through the same speech pretty much, only this time, he was a computer programmer.
"Fair enough", i thought with the savvy thinking i employ sometimes "He's a computer programmer for the UN."
However, all my intelligence went into useless when i next heard that he was from the heaty land of Brazil. "I know it's not easy to make men friends who are just friends," he told me. Again. "But we are very friendly, good people!"

The black men have been numerous. Turns out there's only been one.