Speed dating a-la Moscow



The other week I was sat in McDonald's, reading an expat newspaper while doing other cliche expat things when I stumbled across an add for a speed dating company. I decided this would be a laugh if I could get my friend to tag along.  

Now don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t a move out of loneliness (said the author, reaching for the industrial-size Kleenex box), but more to do something different.

I convinced my friend pretty easily as he is basically what society would class as a sex pest anyway, although I should state that he’s 15 years older than me, an ex farmer and ex-vagrant to boot.
The sight of his roughness, mixed with my baby face, never fails to create mixed impressions, but he laughs a lot and this seems to get him the pussy, so yeah.

Finding the place
We met an hour earlier to make sure we found the place and would have time to let the sweat dry, because we all know what is going on with the weather right now.
Firstly, I didn't know the exact name of the place, but had a google map which led to us going to the wrong place first, which was good seeing as it was far too upmarket for our, arguably, scruffy asses.  
While looking at the map like a couple of dicks, I had the fortune of noticing that a guy, who somewhat resembled a Chechen rebel, was getting blown in a big black car the the right of us.
Pretending not to notice, I pointed this out to my friend and we both stood there awkwardly while a bright blonde head bobbed rhythmically up and down.

Obviously my reserved English upbringing forced me to move on, but that’s just the way it is these days. Hell, the guy could have got out of the car and fucked her right there on the street and I’d have still awkwardly pretended I didn’t see what was transpiring. But what else is there to do? Knock on the window and demand she stop giving him head?

Moving on, we found the place and luckily it was very close.
While my ex-farmer friend headed off to the bathroom to completely soak and wring dry his shirt (he has even worse sweat issues than me and this is his anti-patch technique) I sat at the bar and ordered a beer and a water.
The cost was 500 roubles and I became enraged.


The 'date'

The event was pretty low key with nine women and seven guys (two didn’t show). Fortunately, our Russian ‘competition’ was also pretty scruffy so that put us at ease.
The female situation wasn’t too great (as you can probably imagine) but not too bad, although I was the youngest there and my friend was the oldest.
However, the fact that two of the guys were missing did allow me to whimsically remark to each female that: "As usual мужиков не хватает". Needless to say, I was amused my own rapier wit.

Each ‘date’ was ten minutes which was short, but in fairness, I could have come to the same decision in three minutes. I talked a fair bit of shit I suppose and was asked a lot of the same questions, which is to be expected.
At the end, you fill out a card and tick who liked (it was called a карта симпатии). 


Understandably, these were older women (anyone who knows Russian women, knows that they go a bit insane if they’re not married at like 24) and consequently were probably looking for some financially stable oligarch of 35 with a good sense of humor, fat wallet and a wang that could take an eye out. I, alas, am not these things but despite that, I did get one match.

Of course, the problem is that my match was an accident. The basic arithmetic of selecting the numbers of your ‘likes’ was too much for me (which is why i like languages, not math). I actually wanted to select number 3, but fucked up (oddly enough, I put another two down as well but my friend pointed out that I had selected the wrong numbers). Essentially, I could have accidentally made all the wrong selections which, admittedly, would have led to amusing, if not awkward results.

I can imagine showing up on some date, seeing the wrong one and the whole incident turning into some hilarious mix up from a wholesome 1980’s sitcom.

Exactly like this

I might e-mail my match something, or i might not, or maybe the order of events should be: stable work first, age- inappropriate acquaintance later.

All in all, the experience was ok, worth a try I think, if not for the potential of witnessing a lewd sex act alone. Funnily enough, my buddy actually got a match with the hottest one there, who was 15 years his junior (which is why you sly old expats love Russia so much!), of course, she may have been arithmetically challenged too, but who knows...


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3 comments:

hello-party on April 25, 2011 at 3:32 PM said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anna on October 21, 2013 at 8:23 PM said...

My impression about speed dating in Moscow is at it's mostly for younger crowds (before 40 years old for women and before 50 for men), and most of them of course have russian people mostly ....

Lt. Columbo on October 22, 2013 at 8:20 PM said...

women tended to be younger, dudes older. The one i went to was kind of lame, but then again, probably all speed dating is somewhat on the lame side

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