Busy

Sorry I haven't written anything, I've been busy.

If "busy" can be defined as "hanging endlessly around the beach or cafes on the embankment drinking beer and chatting up girls."

Russia: A Bad Place To Fall Down While Drunk

We went over to a colleague’s house for dinner the other night and she apologized that she had no rice, she hadn’t had time to go out shopping yet because when she came home from work one of her neighbors had been lying unconscious in a puddle of blood in the hallway.

He was very drunk, and had fallen and hit his head –she called the paramedics.

They came and kicked him and slapped him until he woke up, then bandaged the wound on his head, then dragged him into his apartment and tossed him on the bed and left.

She was a little horrified by such rough treatment but I said, “Well, at least they didn’t steal anything.”

Fame Finally Knocks

Here is an article that was in a local newspaper -- it concerned the attempts of a certain girl, one "Olga Dementova" to find a husband among the foreign English teachers of our city:

(Crudely translated by babelfish.altavista.com -- I have subsituted English Teacher X for my first name, which is used with no reference to my surname.)

Type the third - American In America English Teacher X it practiced by historian, but, after arriving here, it were trained for a new profession into the instructor of English. Merry and lighthearted, a question "How are you?" it always answered: "Fine" It respected American food, cafe on the embankment and night clubs.

Olga walked to be entertained with it. English Teacher X it shattered the myth about the fact that they love to drink and very often this only Russians make. To pass krujecku- other it was not away at any time. As soon as alcohol began to play in the veins, its generosity did not know boundaries. Champagne flowed by river... And it became the most igniting dancer of any party. Many joint marches concluded with the fact that for Olga it was necessary to pay taxi and to send English Teacher X in the unconscious state home to be measured off.

This sybarite of life occupied money to the wage, in addition in Olga, poor student.

- it was first gay, then not very... these binges each time they concluded with one and the same. Now we associate with it already more thinly, but our ways and to this day intersect at any local get-togethers. When there is no money, but soul requires holiday, I know, whom to ring and then to be cheered until the morning. But to have serious relations with this person is impossible.

(end)

That's far from being the worst thing anybody has ever said about me, but it's bullshit -- I never knew anybody by that name, and the things she says about other teachers leads me to believe it was a particularly nutty student of English Teacher A, who he boffed once but then wouldn't start dating. She tried to get after me a few times to make A jealous, but I never "cheered her until the morning" as she says.

The rest of it, well. . .

Sexual Stalemate

Went to the nightclub last night -- there's a sort of massive stalement of sex going on there now -- it's strange. Everybody who goes there knows everybody else, and since they're either having sex with them, having sex with somebody they know, or counting on them to buy drinks, everybody finds themselves in a touchy situation with just about everybody, not wanting to make anybody jealous and get their sex or alcohol cut off.

For example, there were no less than five girls I knew there last night, all of whom I've had some kind of sexual contact, if not sex, with, two of whom invited me specifically there, and all of whom had their FRIENDS there, which when emphasized means "The guy who pays for most of my clothes and drinks." Nonetheless, I had to tread rather lightly in talking to this five, as they all became indignant that I was talking with other girls.

One who invited me spent a half-hour or so making out with me in the corner and drinking my drinks, then after she was drunk she went off and made out with another guy, and then when he left started kissing another guy, who I think she had just met, and ended up going home with him. (She also offered to introduce me to 'the love of her life' on the weekend. This is one of the two cousins I took home a couple months ago, incidentally.)

I then ended up in the corner making out with another cute blonde I know, but she wouldn't go home with me because she was there with her female friend, who had hooked up with me one other time, and didn't want to make her jealous.

Sheesh. I knew whores in Bangkok who would be shocked and outraged by such whorish behaviour.

Bad Absinthe After Good

Saturday I went to the nightclub to meet a very hot little slattern who I'd met a few weeks before -- she's so dim, however, that she at first refused to believe that I was actually American, and that I was just talking Russian with an accent to try to fool her. She decided she liked me, however, and was sending me text messages every day during the two weeks she was in St. Petersberg.

Than she arrived back in Vodkaberg on Saturday, and around twelve was calling me every five minutes to see when I'd get to the nightclub. She greeted me like I'd been away at war or something, smothering me with kisses, as the saying goes.

I offered to buy her a drink, and as I was having absinthe, she asked if she could have one too. I bought two, downed mine -- then she smelled hers, said that it smelled bad, turned around and gave it to some foppy orange-shirted metrosexual boy she knew, then spent the rest of the evening dancing with some gangster looking type.

I gets no respect, I tell you.

It Doesn't Suck To Be Rich

Three times in the last couple of weeks, my rich student has taken me out waterskiing in his speed boat. Great fun, though not easy. We boat out to an island in the river, than ski behind his jetski.

It was interesting to see him goofing around with his bodyguards -- who in this capacity, were mostly gofers to carry the beer, set up the table on the beach, and drive the jet ski so we could ski behind it.

I commented on it, and he said, "Well, your security guys get to be very close to you. They know everything about you -- who you're fucking, who you're meeting for business deals, when and how often you go to the toilet -- they know a lot more about me than my wife."

Another Ass Whupping

One of our other teaches got attacked on the street a few days ago -- three guys heard him speaking English on his mobile and decided to lay into him for no particular reason. He managed to escape with only a few scrapes and bruises, and knocked one of them on his ass, though.

This is the end of an era -- African Student S is leaving Vodkaberg tomorrow, and two of my other colleagues are leaving also.

Needless to say, we are drinking heavily all weekend to celebrate / mourn.