Well... that went well...

So, the night after I was all depressed on account of Cute Czech boy, I had a pretty damn near amazing night. That's Moscow for you... ok, the people aren't always incredibly, ok, the food is rich, and ok, its fucking cold. However, you are always meeting new people, having zany experiences, and just all-around GOING PLACES.

I wasn't feeling up to going out, and I really wanted to take Nikita to dinner for his pains the night before. Alas, he was busy studying, so I begrudgingly joined the Americans going to a party.

Here's the story: one of the Americans had a friend from her university back home. He is currently an intern at the American embassy. He invited us all to his apartment for a little soiree.

So, it was essentially our little ragtag group of American students, a few very nice interns, and like 4 Russians that were friends with one of the guys. We hung out for a couple of hours, talking. I know for certain I am shooting for a job at the embassy. I also met a wonderful guy, a Jewish lawyer named Олег. We made plans to go to Kolomenskaya for Maslenitsa.

Also, how we learned he is Jewish... One of the girls at the party was Caucasion. Alec said she looked it, but I honestly couldn't tell... I guess a rounder face than most Russians, but red hair and whatnot. And Олег said that most Russian girls want to marry a Caucasian. I asked why. He said because they don't drink, they respect their parents, are more gentle (presumably Russian code for "less likely to beat you") and dark good looks. And I respond with, "like how everyone in America wants their daughters to marry Jews." And Олег responded with the usual amount of incredulity.

Side note: I attract three sorts of people in life.... gays, Jews, and the affluent. I have already discussed the random rich/powerful girls I met here. I shall discuss the gay friends shortly. But Jews in Russia happen to love me. I'm guessing it because Russians generally REALLY HATE JEWS. I know I've mentioned this before. So, the second I mention that my best friend back home is Jewish, or that I belong to a hillel, or even my name (common enough in America, but obviously a Jewish name and not a Russian one), or even that in America people are ok with Jews, they feel that they can be themselves around me. Its like a gay guy playing it straight... Acting a certain way around most people (like Russians...) and then opening up and being themselves when they meet people who aren't going to judge and/or beat them for being who they are. Nikita literally introduces his friends to me as, "This is ---. He is also a Jew." Random cultural observation.


So. Club time. We left the Russians, including my adorable lawyer, and made our way... Hell, I don't know where we went. I never know. I can never even pronounce the clubs we go to. I need to start collecting cards. All I know is we got on the metro, then more or less walked for a half and hour or so. In the snow. Word was there was a club with a bunch of U.S. Marines... even the DJ was a Marine. So, we used his name to get into this place.


On the way, I was talking to one of the Americans, and we fast became best friends. After talking about Dan Savage, ГУМ, and our mutual love of judging people, I started mentioning adventures with my gay friends/the fact that I am pawning my eventual children off on them. He finally admits to me that he is gay, but not everybody knows. I wanted to throw out there, "honey, everybody knows," but held my tongue. Instant. Best. Friends. We talked about how shitting being gay is in Moscow, how I wrote to Dan Savage about possibly getting involved in the Gay Rights' Movement here, and going on ГУМ dates to eat pastries and be bitchy.

Club Story. Run by, of all people, a dude from Lakeland. The place was REALLY American. As about to random house music, and shitty English music (Vanilla Ice? Really) we listened to popular American music... rap and Ke$ha and the like. I initially started to dance with the nerdiness-looking American. Telling conversation:

Me: Are you American?
American dude: No
Me: ... Yes you are
AD: Ok, yes I am.
Me: Dude. I'm and American student. I'm not asking for the same reasons all of these women are.
AD: Oh ok.
*several minutes pass*
AD: I love you, but I have a girlfriend.
Me: ... huh?
And promptly give up to go dance with SGF.

So, we danced. For four hours. There were, as always, more chicks than guys, but I always had a partner. Two really adorable Americans were there (the bosses of my friends from the embassy), but they had their own thing going on.... one, blonde with glasses, one like an undrugged-out Robert Downey, Jr.

Also, it was obvious from the second we walked in the door many of the girls there were prostitutes. SGF and I remarked on this, making fun of one girl's fake Burberry leggings. It later got around to us that many of them weren't working that night, but were just working girls going out to "meet a nice guy." Knowing what I do about Russian culture, I can't really blame them for wanting to meet Americans.

So. Danced until 430. Didn't even realize it was that late. Yes, it was American music, and yes, the hookers danced better than me (not something I am used to in Europe)but it was still fun. The proprietor of the place bought me a few drinks (for being from SoFla) and we chatted a bit. He literally came to Moscow a few years ago because he was bored. He'd been living in Nicauragua or Peru or somewhere, and figured, "fuck it," and hopped a plane to Moscow. Although I imagine there was more paperwork than his stories let on.

So, at around 5ish, one of the American bous flipped out that we wanted to go home. Tara and I went with them back to their apartment to crash, as we didn't know how long the МГУ crowd would be out. We left, and it was snowing. Hard-core snowing. Poor Tara was in pumps. We walked for awhile before we flagged down a cab. It was a tight squeeze, but we'd be home shortly. Oh, no we wouldn't. Cab driver got pulled over and had to provide documents, and likely pay a bribe. The cab fare went up. We finally got home, and crashed.

Which means the next day, Rachel, a mildly Russian-looking girl in fur and yesterday's makeup, got to escort one of Russia's few black girls home, holding her hand the entire time to keep her from tripping on the ice in her 3" heeled red pumps. We got some looks.

P.S. Found the club! www.story-club.ru