I've mentioned how cranky and impatient I've been with people lately.
Last Friday we were at the House of Pain and some girls took a liking to us, village girls from a cruddy middle-of-nowhere factory-town that I had the unhappiness to visit once, and they were remotely cute, so we were trying to be hospitable to them.
The cutest one, a little mousy-blonde thing with only one vaguely-noticable herpes blister, kept trying to talk to me, but she couldn't understand my Russian, or at least kept claiming she didn't.
"Where are you living in Samara," I asked, in Russian.
"I don't understand," she answered, in Russian.
"Where - are - you - living - in - Samara," I said again, in Russian.
"Sorry, I don't understand you," she said again.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME NOW, YOU STUPID BITCH," I yelled in Russian. "OPEN YOUR EARS!"
That, she understood. And got up and walked off, in a huff.
"What did you do," asked my colleague, crossly.
"Well, if she wasn't a stupid bitch I wouldn't have to call her a stupid bitch!" I said.
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