I just recently returned from 35 days in Odesa, Ukraine. I go first for business trips and only meet with gals who I have exchanged several e-mails with before my arrival. I never go to bars or clubs, either in USA or any other country. But, of course, while I am in any given FSU city I usually run across some western guys who are doing the bar routine. Here is an e-mail I received from a guy I met in Odesa.
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It all began at Fidel ......
While meeting Lena at Fidel I spotted a pair of blondes. They were striking blondes… the kind that enter a room and everybody looks. Not necessarily better-looking than other girls, but just skilled at presenting themselves in a man-pleasing way.
White-blonde hair.
Tan skin.
Glossy pink lipstick.
Push up bra.
Cleavage.
Sprayed-on trousers.
Stiletto heels.
I took note of them but was engaged in Lena and couldn’t switch targets at this point. Nonetheless, while carrying on conversation with Lena I observed the two blondes and watched two French
sailors, approach the girls and buy them drinks. The Frenchmen thought
they were making progress. They weren’t. They were just buying girls
drinks.
That night at Palladium, I spotted the two blondes I had seen in Fidel. Alone. In the same outfits as before.
Before I could approach them, they were gobbled up by some Russian
guys and invited to sit in the VIP couches surrounding the dance floor. These were popular girls … like I said, dressed up in that gaudy getup that all men seem attracted to.
Figuring the girls would be occupied for awhile, I refocused on other girls and gathered a number from a girl I would meet the next afternoon.
But it was getting late (early) now and I spotted the blondes at the bar, finally alone again. I decide to employ my tactical skills and I approached the blonde I preferred … I was drawn like a moth to a flame by hair straight blonde hair. I went up to her and announced in my best Russian:
“I remember you from Fidel. I want to see you again. Let’s meet tomorrow. What’s your number?”
She instantly told me the number and her name, Nastya.
I said, “Ok, see you tomorrow.” And left.
At that point I was certain that my ploy was working. Not over doting.
Remaining mysterious. Later I would learn later that my tactic had
functioned perfectly. Up to this point, I was doing very well.
Day 2:
After an afternoon date with the girl met at the club last night, I met Nastya at Fidel. Fidel isn’t my favorite place, but it is convenient and everybody knows where it is. Blonde Nastya spoke zero English… generally a good sign that she isn’t spoiled and hasn’t had a western boyfriend before.
Conversation is dry however… so dry that I began to wonder if Nastya is either uninterested or just stupid.
Actually, it was probably a combination of any number of factors, a
significant one being my Russian, which though capable of holding
conversation isn’t good enough to carry an entire conversation all by
myself over a long period of time. So I gave Nastya the benefit of the
doubt. I often give attractive blondes the benefit of the doubt. I'm like that.
Just as things were really drying up a stunning girl enters the bar and joins us. The new girl was much prettier than Nastya. New girl is about 1,78m tall, thin but not bony, jet black hair, green eyes and a delightfully structured face with a captivating smile. Unlike the goofy looking blondes with their pushed up tits and glossy pink lipstick, the new girl was classy, she knew how to dress and was simply beautiful…
The conversation heats up as I flirt with the new girl, Yulia.
Yulia is a model.
Yulia is smart.
Yulia is beautiful.
Yulia is a TV correspondent.
Yulia has a boyfriend.
Yulia is out of reach.
Yulia is still more interesting than the Blonde.
I convince the girls to come to my apartment, hoping that showing my nice apartment off will impress them. Nastya was impressed … Yulia thought it was “nice” meaning “tacky”. Like I said … Yulia had taste… and she was right about the tackiness.
After a drink at Buffalo 99 in which I was able to start touching Nastya’s hand and holding it intermittently, we part ways with Yulia. Yulia and I had gotten along really well… but she had to go.
My date is going well, the super babe is gone and we decide to have a
drink at the Irish pub … which I don’t mind since it is conveniently located close to my apartment… that is really all there is positive to say about the Irish pub.. except maybe also that it has a pool table and $100/hour pros in the summer. Like I said, not much positive to say about this Irish pub.
We sit in the corner and by this time I am holding Nastyona’s hand … and figuring I was making progress according to schedule … it was now just a matter of getting her alone, after dark, in my apartment. I wanted to avoid a club at all costs … it seems to me this would be a waste of time …. It was my last night and getting too late to activate other options, so my best option was to push Nastya until she folds … or if it becomes apparent that she isn’t going to, end the date cordially to set her up for a later trip and go to a club alone and pursue new options.
Suddenly her blonde friend arrived. The same blonde from when we first
met and the same one from the club. Blonde friend was styled up the same way she had been the previous night. Cheap and chic. Like many suppose a Ukrainian girl is supposed to look.
White-blonde hair.
Tan skin.
Glossy pink lipstick.
Push up bra.
Cleavage.
Sprayed-on trousers.
Stiletto heels.
Her face was ok in that kitten sort of way, but nothing extraordinary. Still, sitting with the two blondes I was getting a lot of jealous stares. Or maybe they just knew something I didn’t?
The conversation that ensued was classic and one of the most stupid that I have been in a long time.
Blonde friend: You like Nastya? She is beautiful Ukrainian girl. She is model.
Me: I know. She is very beautiful. (I’m lying … she’s cute, but not more)
Blonde friend: Beautiful girls need beautiful things. Beautiful girls must make themselves always look beautiful.
Me: Uh … I suppose.
Blonde friend: There is a new shop down the street. There are nice
clothes. Like Prada. Nastya needs new clothes. She is very beautiful, but she needs more beautiful things. Do you want Nastya to look beautiful?
Me: Nastya looks beautiful as she is.
Blonde friend: Nastya wants to be beautiful. You will buy Nastya clothes now, yes? The shop closes in 30 minutes. There isn’t much time.
Me: I don’t want to go shopping, I want to talk to Nastya and get to know her.
Blonde friend looks at me slyly.
Blonde friend: You don’t want to buy Nastya clothes?! You don’t care how Nastya looks? Nastya is number 1 model in Odessa. She is number 1. She does not talk to many men. She has only had one man before. She likes you.
Me: I like her too.
Blonde friend: I am getting married. My husband is from Mississippi. He is very rich. He bought me this dress. $2000. I will have his baby.
Me: Congratulations. What a lucky guy.
Blonde friend: Yes, he buys me many things. See my watch and this ring? It is important that a man buy his woman many things. She must always look beautiful. Do you want your woman to look beautiful?
Me: Of course, every man is proud when other men look at his woman and
see how beautiful she is. I like beautiful girls.
Blonde friend periodically translates for Nastya, who is following the
conversation with interest. Blonde friend scoots closer to me. And stares intensely into my eyes.
Blonde friend: You will buy Nastya clothes at shop now, yes?
Me: I just met Nastya! I certainly will be very good to her if she is my girl, I can be very generous … buy her presents, take her on holidays … I can be very generous, but I must at least know her first. I want to get to know Nastya.
Blonde friend. I see. Nastya needs to go to hairdresser. It costs $200. Is that a lot of money for you?
Me: No, its not.
Blonde friend: You will give Nastya money for hairdresser, yes?
Me: No.
Blonde friend: Why not, do you not want Nastya to look beautiful? Do you expect her to wait for you?
Me: I just met Nastya a few hours ago. I don’t ”expect” her to do anything.
At this point I realize I am going to lose this battle, but continue.
Blonde friend: My girlfriend Oksana has a man from Italy. He loves
Oksana. He came to Odessa last week and bought her a dress. $8000.
Me: Good for her.
Blonde friend: Yes, he loves her very much. I can see that. She will not see other men now I think. She will wait for him. But she does not have sex with him yet. Nastya will not have sex with you. I did not have sex with my man for 9 months. Then he visited me 6 times. Now I know he loves me. I will have has baby. He lives in Mississippi.
Me: Lucky guy. You’re gonna love Mississippi. Its like Odessa. You’ll fit in just nicely with the American girls there.
Blonde friend: What? American girls are fat.
Me: Yes, they will be jealous of you and probably hate you.
Blonde friend: I know. It is true.
30 seconds of blissful silence.
Blonde friend: Nastya will need many beautiful things if she is to wait for you.
Me: Nastya can do what she wants. She can wait if she chooses. What are you anyway, Nastya’s agent? A contract negotiator?
Blonde friend: I want to help Nastya. She does not speak English well. She needs things. And I want her to shut up. After she meets you in club she does not shut up about you, she calls you her prince. “He is so beautiful. He is prince.” I can’t hear it anymore.
Me: I’m not a prince.
Suddenly Nastya speaks…. In English. I am shocked.
Nastya: I want write you SMS, but my phone only write Russian. See?
She shows me the phone.
Me: Write me in Russian, I can read it.
Nastya: I want learn English.
Blonde friend: Nastya needs to learn English. English lessons cost $100. You will give Nastya English lessons, yes?
Me: Sure, I’ll give Nastya English lessons.
Blonde friend: Ha ha. I mean you will give her $100 for English lessons, yes?
Me: Whatever. Listen. If I am going to give Nastya anything, it will be in private. And not with her “agent” around negotiating.
Blonde friend: Nastya will need money for phone card, to write you SMS. It is expensive for her…
Me: Check please!
The conversation went on like this for at least another 20 minutes and at one point even became heated. Finally I gave up, gave Nastya about 100 grv for taxi and a phone card told her I’d call her or write next time I am in Odessa.
