A Slightly Less Horrific Russian Girl Story

Okay, here's another one:

A few Fridays ago I went to a night club chasing after a busty, raven-tressed, only lightly-mustached Georgian girl that I've known for a while; she was drunk when I got there and we had a few dances and some kissy-face in the corner. Eventually she kind of wandered off and I went home alone.

The next day at about 3:00 or 4:00pm, I got a call from her, telling me to buy some vodka, some martini vermouth, and some apple juice and come over to her place, which was way the hell away from where I live.

Now as I mentioned there was an enormous snowstorm a few weeks ago; in this particular region, the streets were still far from clear. I found an aged Armenian taxi-driver in a white Lada (is there any other kind?) and he drove me around for nearly an hour trying to find her place; the backstreets were piled so high with snow that I had to get out and walk for the last fifteen minutes of so, taking directions on my cell phone.

Now it had struck me that the person giving me directions on my cell phone was not the same person I was trying to meet; when I heard a guy in the background, I got a sinking (though not yet completely hopeless) feeling.

I finally found the apartment; one of the worst Russian apartments I've ever seen, actually, with bare concrete walls and air-mattresses on the floor.

Inside were a teenage prostitute and a track-suited thug.

When I say she was a teenage prostitute, I mean mainly her appearance -- she looked like Jodie Foster in TAXI DRIVER. Skinny, looked about fourteen, loads of eye make-up, short-shorts, and a hoody.

When I say he was a thug, I probably mean his appearance as well as his character, but all things considered he was pretty nice to me.

The girl I had come there to visit was in the shower, so I sat with the thug and the prostitute drinking vodka for thirty minutes or so; I politely answered all the usual questions about why I was in Russia and what I thought of Russian winters, etc.

Finally the girl I had come to visit came out; she was clearly shitfaced, and the prostitute informed me that the girl had been drinking non-stop since she arrived at the apartment at around 5:00am. The girl admitted to a few hours of sleep around 9:00am to 1:00pm.

She jumped into my lap and began kissing me; her conversation quickly devolved to "Davaj vipim!" (Let's drink!) She finished off about five shots of vodka in twenty minutes and then almost immediately collapsed unconscious on one of the air mattresses.

This didn't upset me -- I feel fortunate we were spared any vomitting.

I finished off the last of the vodka with the thug and the prostitute (who seemed very much in love, incidentally) and took my leave, explaining I had an appointment to eat pizza with my colleagues.

"You could go lie down with her," suggested the teenage prostitute.

I declined to make any moves on the drooling crash-test dummy that she had become, luckily caught a bus going right to where my colleagues were having pizza, and sauntered in.

"And how was YOUR day?" I began.