Now don’t go into a panic mode. I’m not playing Russian Roulette for real. You know the drill. Put one bullet into a chamber, spin the cylinder, pull the trigger and see what happens. If you’re lucky, nothing. If you’re not, like Terry Kath of the band Chicago, you will forever regret your last words (which were his), “Don’t worry, it’s not loaded.”
My idea of Russian Roulette was the relationship kind. A client of mine once played it to the end result. Frank was a lonely widower in Port Orchard, a guy who was on the upper end of the life scale, if you get my drift.
Frank desperately wanted a wife. Not finding one domestically, he decided to get an import – a Russian. He made several trips to Russia to meet her and her family. They hit it off and she eventually came to Amerika.
She loved life in Port Orchard. Ah, small town Amerika. It was idyllic. He was too old to really be interested in sex, he had a large bank account and she could get her green card. I think she liked the idea of a checkbook the best, for she held onto it for dear life, Frank only getting a small allowance of his own hard earned money.
I know this to be so because the only time Frank could hire us to do any creative work for him was when his wife went back to Russia to tell all her comrades about how wonderful her life was now that she didn’t even have to put out to get out :).
After my last relationship came crashing down all around me, I thought that perhaps this idea would work for me as well. I mean, all the women Russian dating sites show are drop dead gorgeous. Best of all, most can’t speak a lick of English. This ordinarily would bother me, but after the last round of nonstop henpeckery, I think I would have really enjoyed having someone yell at me in what to me, would sound like complete jibberish.
Ah, there she is Irina. Don’t they look… sorry… doesn’t she look amazing? She wrote me a love letter on one of these dating sites. In English.
Given that she was a beginner in English, I would imagine that her elderly grandmother or aunt helped her write it so that I could understand her loving thoughts about me.
Here’s a snippet from her letter:
I wonder if you believe in miracles? I do! So here I am writing this letter to you ; ))) It would be great if you reply me, as nobody can know what may happen with us….We can be those who we have been looking for so long!
I do realize there is a big distance between us….But I do not care about this distance at all! Why!? We both know that this distance is not the main thing in this life. Yes!? You are here too. I have met your profile here. I reread it… My photos….Yes! Photos! So, you see that I am slim, and I prefer to stay active, there is always something that needs my attention. =) What else should I add!? I do not mind being caught in the rain. A man and a woman… It is raining… They are holding hands…They do not care about it at all! Love! It is in their hearts! Perhaps I’ve watched many old movies, but I still believe in the concept of “Happily ever after”. Does it still exist!?”
Irina
Now is that a Seattle dream girl or what? She loves the rain! And it’s uncanny how she knew so much about me, given that I have never filled out a profile on a Russian dating site.
Now, I know that we would have had our problems. After all, you’re reading this in English.
This is what Irina originally said:
Экз омнэжквюы номинатй вим, прё нэ эзшэ золэт кэтэро. Ад эвэртё аликвюип пырикульа нам, ты либриз ыкжпэтэндяз вим, экз мыдиокрым ылаборарэт про. Кытэрож фабыллас котёдиэквюэ мэль ут, нонюмэш окюррырэт хёз ед. Аппэтырэ глориатюр эи дуо, ыам эа юлламкорпэр пхйложопхяа. Прё эним дикунт витюпэраторебуз ат, нык ыт омнеж партйэндо, прё нобёз витюпырата йн. Нам ыт алёквюам губэргрэн, ючю ку едквюэ мэнтётюм рыпримёквуы, дуо эа ажжюм окюррырэт. Лыгэндоч витюпэраторебуз ат нам, ыюм ыт эзшэ мютат.
For all I know, this could say instead, “Hey, capitalistic pig, I am writing this only because I want to get my green card, then I will take you for everything you got and get my cousin in the Russian Mafia to pay you a little visit so I can widow your sorry ass and live the high life in Amerika.”
Eventually, I gave the whole idea up when I realized that I had stopped paying any attention to what they said and instead played the game of Hi Lo. You know the drill. Guess whether the next card is higher or lower than the one you have.
It works well for Russian dating sites, too. Guess the age before you open the link from the photo. Do this at a blinding speed. Older or younger. Higher or lower.
Yes, Russian Roulette. Pick wrong and you’re done. Keep score of just how long you can guess correctly.
Sure, I could have played Russian Roulette the right way. I could have fallen madly in love with a drop dead gorgeous Russkie girl who adored my green eyes card. She would gladly put her arm around my waist as she plied me with vodka, telling me how much she wanted me… to give up the wallet she was reaching for. Eventually, she would seduce me into making things more permanent. She would convince me to have a little Boris and Natasha in our life, just so she could ensure a steady supply of ongoing flow long after she had divorced me.
In the end, I opted to go it alone. No Irina. No Boris. No Natasha. I sure would miss those dogs.
In the Emerald City, wondering if I was just russian’ into things,
– Robb