Chapter 9: Day Two – Kiev at Last
Fortunately my fears were ungrounded. As I stepped off of the plane, there was a lovely young lady holding a sign that had my name on it. There were three of us who had opted for the VIP service, and we were taken to a special shuttle. The rest were piled on a regular bus. They went to the airport, we went to the VIP lounge.
Now, the VIP lounge was what they said it was: a waiting area with TV and leather seats where you could wait “in comfort.” However, the TV was turned to some ridiculous Ukraine show that had guys wearing sarongs slung across T-Shirts, and they played some stringed instrument and sung Ukrainian folk songs. Not exactly what I had in mind when they had mentioned TV in a lounge. I mean, the World Cupo was on... I had expected at the worst to see that... And, the seats were indeed leather, but there was a peculiar smell in the room, that made me wonder if all of the VIP people believed in bathing…
The reason we were waiting was that they had to retrieve our luggage for us before we could complete the trip through customs.
While I was waiting, although I didn’t enjoy the TV, there were restrooms where I could freshen up. No shower or anything like that, but I cleaned up the best I could. Fortunately, I had brought my “toiletry” bag with my carryon, so I had wet-wipes, some soap, toothbrush, etc.
OK… true confession time… Following the advice of a thread some time ago, I had got a prescription for that “famous little blue pill” a while back. It’s fairly easy to do, I discovered, since you can do the whole thing online. (You have to fill out a little form, lie a little, and poof! Instant prescription. Maybe you don’t even have to lie, I don’t know… I fudged my answers a little just to be on the safe side…) I figured… why take a chance? I was traveling a great distance, and was bound to be very tired. A little “insurance” couldn’t hurt.
I had ten precious pills. I had experimented a little before my trip. I discovered that the full dosage was not only not necessary, it made me see spots. So, I had carefully cut each of the pills into fourths, or 25 mg doses. This makes your money go a lot farther.
Although the directions caution against taking more than one dose per day (even if you have cut the doses) the active life of it seems to be about 6 hours. It takes twenty minutes for any medicine to hit your bloodstream, on an average.
The cab ride to town is 30 minutes. I figure I’ll grab some water at the airport, and take the pill on the way to town. Not that anything is guaranteed to happen, but I want to make sure that if I am “put in the game” right away that I don’t let the team down. (Frankly, I am rather hoping that I will have time to shower before anything happens, but you never know…)
Now, in her last email to me, Victoria had said two things: First that she was going to the apartment early to prepare a surprise for me. (Surprise? Gotta like the sounds of that!) Secondly, she asked me to make sure that when I come to the apartment, I come alone (i.e. leave the driver behind…) Now you see why I had placed one cut blue pill in my pants pocket.
OK… first problem with the VIP service: You never see the airport. They do exactly what they say, They retrieve your luggage while you wait in the lounge, and then whisk you straight through to where your driver waits for you.
So… no airport… no money changers… no stores… and no water.
I’m in the taxi and heading toward my date with destiny with the blue pill burning a hole in my pocket.
Interestingly enough, as part of the VIP service, I am given a bottle of some alcoholic drink. I am not sure what it was. It wasn’t Vodka. It was a golden brown color. (I don’t know my hard liquor very well). The label was Ukraine, so I had no idea. I did think of opening the bottle, and washing down the Viagra with that… but that just seems too low class. Plus, I really don’t want to show up with alcohol on my breath.
So, I just sit back and wait. Surely I’ll have some opportunity for a drink before I am “called upon for action…” I try to strike up a conversation with the driver, but it becomes quickly apparent that he doesn’t speak English. So, I lean back and watch the countryside whiz by.
The trip to Kiev is nice. The landscape reminds me very much of Pittsburgh, where I am from. It is hilly, and rivers run into the city, and I think I even see a steel mill in the distance.
And the city? Well, I guess it is like any other major metropolitan city -- that was founded by Cossacks in the 17th century... which is to say that the buildings were very interesting, and unlike anything in America...
Driving in Kiev is not for the faint-hearted, but my driver has the courage of a lion. We are weaving around stopped cars… at one point going up on the sidewalk to avoid traffic. I barely notice. My mind is now on the upcoming meeting.
I have done well to keep my mind off of it for the whole trip, but I cannot anymore. I wonder what she will be like. I wonder what will happen the moment I see her for the first time. I have seen variety of pictures, but there is nothing like that first face to face meeting.
Before I know it, the car has skidded to a stop in front of a stone building.
I try to explain to my driver that I don’t need help with my bags, but it is no use. Up we go, together.
As we arrive at the apartment, he rings the bell. I hand him his money and try to explain that I am fine, but he just smiles and waits with me.
I hear high heel shoes on a wooden floor, and my heart starts thudding in my chest.
The bolt slides back behind the metal door.
I have a momentary flash of a disaster… she said she had a surprise for me… what if she comes to the door in a negligee or something, and finds me there standing with grinning Ivan? I try to position myself so I am in front of him. I know I’m being rude, but I don’t care at this point. I was supposed to be alone!
The door opens.
There’s Victoria. She’s in a black dress (thank God!) hair done, makeup perfect, and a million dollar smile for me.
I thank the driver one more time, and put my stuff inside. He lingers for a moment, and Victoria speaks to him in Russian. He replies, surprised, and then thanks me and leaves. I have no idea what he was waiting for. But thankfully, he is gone.
I notice the phone off of the hook, and Victoria holds up a finger. She talks to someone for a second, and hangs up. Then she faces me.
She is tall. She told me she is 5’8”, but she is wearing high heels, so she looks me pretty much in the eye. (I am 6’2”).
Our eyes lock onto each other for a moment. Then she says: “My Prince…” And comes to my arms.
I am disheveled from traveling for 16 straight hours, and I know I am not looking my best, but you would never have known it from the look she just gave me.
You know… Up until the moment that door opened, I wondered, way back in my mind, if she might be a scammer. It was possible. Just because she was a real live person didn’t mean that she wasn’t after a green card, or as much money as she could get. I didn’t think this as I wrote her. I had been written to by many scammers, and I thought I could trust my instincts. But, you never really know…
But as I held her in my arms, I knew that couldn’t be true.
The fact that she was there in the apartment waiting for me, wasn’t the reason… the fact that she was dressed in a sexy black dress wasn’t the reason… The look of adoration in her eyes wasn’t the reason… I figure all of that could be faked…
It was the fact that as she came into my arms for our first embrace, I felt her shake with emotion… That, cannot be faked. Or, if it can, then I would have happily paid twice what I paid just to see the greatest actress of our generation.
Any lingering doubts were banished in an instant.
I pull back and look her in the eye. Her lips are an inch from mine, but as I go to close the gap, she turns her head to the side with a small smile.
This perplexes me, but I hold her some more. I can feel by her body language how she is feeling, so I try for another kiss. Same result. I kiss her on the neck instead. Her hands are pressing me into her. But again, I am thwarted when I go for a real kiss.
This time she holds up her finger: “Wait a minute”…
She walks to the kitchen. In a moment, she returns and I can see that she has wiped off her lipstick.
And now the kiss begins.
I don’t know how long it lasted. Technically I guess about an hour. At some point in there, I pick her up and carry her into the next room. I never did get a chance to freshen up, or take my secret “booster pill”. I didn’t need either.
Much later, Victoria gets up, dresses, and goes into the kitchen to make me dinner, leaving me lying there, trying to understand the enormity of what just happened.
I am no virgin. I don’t say that with great pride, I am simply stating a fact of my life… I never wanted to be an “experienced” man, but I have been divorced twice and dated for more years than I care to count. I have been with enough women to know that what just happened was different. What just happened can not be described in any other words than:
I had just made love to my wife.
Incredibly mad, passionate love – the kind that usually follows a long absence, but still the feeling was palatable. I had just made love to my wife…
And now she was in the kitchen making me dinner. My life had just changed forever…
The rest of the evening and night goes much the same… except with less eating…
The next morning I wake up exhausted, and yet strangely refreshed.
My week has just begun.
