* International Woman of Mystery

   
 


 

 

Home

Aimee's Revenge

Creative Fiction

More Writing

PICTURES

People

* Tumultuous Three Months

* Screwed!

* Sex & Dishwashing

* European Me

* Last Straw

* Big and serious

* Phone Sex

* First Draft

* English-Only

* Disney Princess

* Long time

* Fuck You, I'm a European Aristocrat

* International Woman of Mystery

* Prized Meat

* Cyril, My Love

* Email from Mom

* Oh my god!

PICTURE THUMBNAILS

 


     
 

Adventures of an American Sexual Predator in Russia
by Aimee Friedland
 
Adventures of an American Sexual Predator in Russia
Party Scene

[Night. Charming and eclectic apartment of the director of the Russian-German volunteer exchange program in St. Petersburg. Vasilevskij Ostrov. Amelie soundtrack playing in background]

Enter Stage Right happy_accidents, bobs12, alex_j, and sky007000.

At the kuchentisch sit two bubbly girls from Austria smoking Camel cigarettes, a very tall blonde from Sweden, Hans, and also a petite European-looking girl named Sasha, who is in all actuality Russian. In the far right corner sit 5 Chinese students shying away from the crowd, giggling amongst themselves and drinking Baltika.

Robert and I move in for the prey. I start chatting with one of the girls at the table, Juliya. She is from the south of Austria and actually belongs to the Slovenian minority there. With a choppy blonde bob and striped long-sleeved shirt, Juliya looks a lot more Austrian than Slovenian, but Robert insists that nonetheless she has a certain "glow" about her that reminds him of girls in Ljubljana. Juliya and I both like the band Wir Sind Helden and I amuse her by reciting some of their lyrics in German.

Enter Stage Left - Almandine - a French girl, whom I fondly rename Noisette during the course of the evening; Julie - French, and the fiance of the rugged, afro-donning French-Palestinian Emmanuelle; Lena - an Austrian who is tired of being mistaken for a man in Russia; Lucija - CROATIAN!!!, and her half-Slovenian half-Swiss friend, whose name I forgot. I talk to Lucija for quite a while, in the end getting her number so that we can go out next weekend. Cha-Ching. She seems like a fun girl. Her Russian is fantastic, and perhaps she can give me some private Croatian lessons

I migrate over to the corner where Emmanuelle stands, looking bored. For the rest of the night I am speaking in a mixture of French and Russian, with barely any English involved to aid in translation. I realize that I do miss French, or more likely, the ability to converse with natives in a foreign language other than Russian. Although most of my French has since been eclipsed by the ardors of living in Russia, I am able to remember many phrases and constructions with the help of Emmanuelle and his foxy fiance Julie. Julie is the perfect example of why French women rock - she is dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt, her naturally dark brown hair carelessly tied back. She is not wearing any make-up except for two encirclements of black eyeliner, and her smile reveals a set of widely-spaced and uneven teeth. She smokes more than the Marlboro Man himself, swears loudly in French, dances without any inhibitions, and because of this I find her wildly sexy. I ask Emmanuelle whether she is bisexual, et il reponde que ca ce depende au jour.

I migrate back to the Austrians and start talking with Nickola. She is wearing a cute Hello-Kitty ring, and in general I find her style quite likable. She is new to Russia and so I offer to “orient†her a bit. I get her number. Cha-ching.

Another French guy walks in, Benoit. He and Robert start talking about work, but later I steal Benoit away for the opportunity to speak more French. First of all, however, I must clarify with him that "Benoit" is not a pastry that I ate at the Cafe du Monde in New Orleans. He assures me that Benoit is his name, and not a French donut. Robert keeps mistaking Benoit as Renoir, and I find this hilarious. Benoit is kind of an asshole and tells me that I'm going to get fat if I keep eating sukhariki and chips. I flash him le doigt au milieu and steal his cigarette.

Enter Stage Right Masha, beautiful doe-eyed girlfriend of alex_j.

Just as Robert has said, Masha is truly stunning, and what's best is that she doesn't even appear to be trying too hard as most Russians do. I keep my distance as to not alarm Alex - previously when drunk I have joked about seducing Masha and have even suggested getting her up to the apartment to do "room service". None of that tonight, though; I decided I was going to behave myself like a nice young lady!

Enter Stage Right Russian Lena and her friend Zhanna.

For the first time, I hear Robert introduce Lena to the crowd as his girlfriend, and for the first time, I am introducing myself to men as a lesbian, and a bisexual to the straight girls - I don't want to give any false hopes or scare anyone off at the same time. I want a girlfriend, but all these other girls are presumably naturalki and I don't think Zhanna swings that way, either way she is a typical-looking Russian, and also a comrade of Lena which means she is probably straight (and slender) as a rod in all senses of the word. Actually, there is a Finnish girl who is, as I have been informed, a lesbian. We exchange some glances, and I go over to chat, but she seems more interested in the Swiss-Slovenian. Oh well.

Somehow I always end up drinking too much beer, getting too frisky, and sneaking in too many of other peoples' cigarettes But last night was genuinely fun and I don't even feel embarrassed about it [almost]. Something tells me that in Arizona, it would not be as easy to party in a Russian's kitchen with a Scotsman, four French, a Brit, a handful of Chinese and Russians, a Swiss, a Croat, four Austrians, one of whom is Slovenian, and the other born in Kazakhstan, a Finn, a Swede, and another American. Overall I got three girls' numbers, with which I am very satisfied. Very cute girls indeed, but as Rob reminds me, they are probably all straight. I wonder to what extent I could persuade them in my direction? I love European girls. I love Europe. I want to stay here. Life is more interesting. If all goes as planned, I will be studying in New York City next year. But if not, which is the more likely outcome, I will take a year off and work in Russia while applying to European universities. Such is the life of your 18-year-old international woman nymphet of mystery. It's a tough title to live by, but somebody's gotta do it.