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If you don’t eat it the salad, it doesn’t matter, because you have been chosen and he will still come talk to you since your compliance in the whole matter is largely unnecessary.In big cities, it’s not uncommon for a man to just run up to you in the street and say, “While all men like a challenge, the average American man tends to stop pursuit once you indicate that you are repulsed by his presence.All of which is to say, I am dual in every way, and my plethora of multicolored passports is a worthy symbol of the cultural mish-mash of my personality. The first thing that you’ll notice when you get to Russia is that the women are astoundingly beautiful and immaculately presented.They will sashay past you with their wobbly stilettos (which are worn even over blocks of ice) and designer bags (which carry a full pharmacy complete with a mini shoe polish and handwipes) and, if you tell them you pluck your own eyebrows and only get a facial once a month, will look at you as though you have just clawed your way out of a swamp.Petersburg in 1988, moved to New York when I was five, and then moved back into a different crumbling communal building in St.Petersburg after graduating from my overpriced New York liberal arts college.Russians, on the other hand, aren’t going to let a little thing like your disinterest keep them from being your boyfriend.I’ve had male suitors who kept calling for years after I stopped picking up the phone.
” “Does that hurt” “Would you like a glass of water?
I’ve heard of guys crawling through windows and appearing naked in bedrooms.
I had female friends who had no idea they were apparently someone’s girlfriend.
Having grown up in New York, I had taken for granted that people were always striving for something, or at least striving to be striving for something.
In Russia, most of the guys I met were engaged in some sort of dubious import/export business in electronics; the rest were involved in “business” (if you ask what kind of business, and there is a marked pause followed by the word “business,” you should refrain from asking any more questions).
But what I mistook for a smile was actually a grimace. But then Anton hugged me, heat and sweat rising from his torso, his arms wrapped around me in a promise of eternal protection, inhaling me in that way men do to show they’re grateful that you’re safe.