This week I had to attend a “networking” event for Russians in London (read “pianka”).
For reasons beyond my comprehension, this event was held on a boat. Every time another boat went by, ours would shake and bobble about, which as the evening wore on and people became progressively more intoxicated, proved to be a lethal combination.
The crowd was predictably scary. There were lots of business men in expensive suits, and lots of women who looked like they were….um…in a different sort of business.
It took me one quick survey of the scene to realise I was
the only non- Russian woman there
the shortest woman there
the darkest woman there
the worst dressed woman there
the ugliest woman there
the only, um, non for profit woman there.
My colleagues and I took over a leather sofa in the corner and studied these creatures (the men were not really worth studying)
and we drank
and obviously at some moment i had to go to the toilet. i got in ok, but after i flushed and attempted to leave the stall...something happened to the door and it JUST WOULD NOT OPEN!!
i shook it, i pulled at it....but nothing. finally a female voice shouted "pomoch?" whereupon i explained my predicament. to cut a long and pathetic story short, i was liberated from my toilet cell by three coke-snorting prostitutes. when the door swung open and i looked up at my 6 foot tall blonde liberators, i felt like a troll being released from an underground pit.
i might need to change jobs.
4 commentaires:
here is a story for you.
last week i ended up having dinner with three swedish diplomats in moscow. one (who lives in msk at the moment) was with his girlfriend. who, thanks god, turned out to be latvian and not russian. but anyway. the moment i walked into that room and saw the woman i could not believe my eyes, but then i understood, i have to sit at the same table and make a conversation with her. she was, as my friend put it, блядище.
anyway, i was shocked at how some ppl simply are the way they are, but also by the way that his boyfriend seemed to enjoy that.
but i could contently make the point to my swedish friend the next morning about geography of bitches :)
HER boyfriend, it should be of course
i just died laughing with your post. uncroyable! but not, really.
we need to meet (next week, perhaps...?)
i seriously dont know what conclusions to draw from the whole story, other than the obvious: i have a small bladder and need to change jobs.
as caitlin pointed out these things do only happen to me.
thus while whores might appear all over the planet, it is most typical that i would encounter them in the toilet....anywhere...at least i speak russian, cause those ladies didnt appear to know english, and think i might still be stuck in there had i not been able to explain myself...oi vey...
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