The other day me and another teacher got a ride to a language school exhibition with one of the young women who works in the administration of the school. We were surprised when she picked us up in a new Toyota SUV.
"Damn, I wish I got your salary," joked the other teacher to the pretty administration girl, who is a former artistic gymnist.
"My boyfriend bought me this. He's very rich," she added, unnecessarily. We know there's virtually no way she'd go out with a guy who wasn't. Like many Russian girls of the Glasnost era -- she's about 26 -- she was taught by her parents to find a rich husband by any means necessary. Her salary at our Language school is probably no more than $300 a month or so. That might cover her make-up money every month, but not much else.
"Nice," we agreed.
"But you don't know how hard I worked for this," she said, without a trace of self-consciousness or humour.
The other teacher and I simultaneously crapped ourselves.
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