Flop.

11.may.99

Some of us could get the impression reading my notes that I was extremely unlucky with girls. It is untrue. Now I'm going to tell you about real rebuffs. The question is why men in general and I in particularity are so attracted by unordinary girls. I know you are mocking in thinking that there are not any unordinary girls at all. You are wrong and I'll prove it.

You know the condition of jeans plays not little part in flirt business. I'm very finicky about it. More then it even some girls are finicky about it too. It was in fall, (autumn). Specially for you I wrote down the date - 10.okt.97. Indian summer fostered such idlers as me in these days. Russian call it "peasant women summer", (no one knows why). I was on trifle business in town. I chose baggy stretching jeans and sweater. Such dressing is very convenient to live but very censured by girls. I was conscious of that fact and from the start felt guilty.

Where did it happen? The question is idle one, of course in Subway. Had she perfect figure or wizard manners? Crude words in her address should be said, because my notes can lack of a lot of merits but they just trying to keep true. She was too young too unsexy and too bony.(At least she hadn't slightest intention to attract to herself). But somehow I was attracted.

You know I'm desperate individualist, (and my fave phil is Berdyaev). So I abhor to be attached to any community by outer force. If you say that all men pester girls next moment I'll refuse from title to be called a man. But returning to that Subway train. There were two people in it, (except thousand and thousand others). It was I and she. I, (as I said), was in jeans and sweater, she was in jeans dress. This dress wasn't her best, but at least it wasn't baggy. Her deportment was good. I say it is a real treat when you have good figure with good deportment. But her figure wasn't perfect. Her slenderness could be explained by her young age so I didn't blame her for it, (just shut eyes on this fact, that's all). I don't know what your principal position is, but I am ready to bear rather slim girl than fat one.

She was a typical Russian girl, but don't be afraid that I'll begin to promote all Russian. It wasn't only her ..... Damn it! Ok I say you without beating about bushes. She had extraordinary long braid. It was lower then her ... (What is appropriate word for "ass"?). And mind you if you unbraid it they, (hair of course), will become even much longer! What a enchanting sight to see in my bed!

From that moment I balanced on two rocks. First - her braid and she, second - my baggy jeans and dishevelled I. What would you do in my place? Rushed to the laundry? I became to agreement with my guilty consciousness by deciding to make just a compliment. You already see what a harmless theme I chose for it, (her braid). I even remembered that it was the girl who was showed on the TV. One millionaire proposed her new car for the right to have her braid but she refused him. (Isn't she a fool?)

I even don't wish to repeat my first phrase, (it was "You look nice" again). But with second one I made great alterations to my habits. I said: "How did you contrive to do it?" To any ordinary girl my speech would seem loony but not her. However she showed me in the next moment that much in common with other saved in her scope. She just said THEIR FAVORITE PHRASE: "OH, HOW ALL OF YOU BORED ME!" Just imagine - little squirt with jeans overalls dress and flat breast says "how you bored!" In a moment I, so good, brave, rectitude, ....., (I guess I should have and another merits), at short so unique creature as me was moved to "ALL YOU". - Bad and impertinent.

What do I think? She grows from napkins ubelievably long braid, walks in public places and makes sour face to jolly good fellows who just making her compliments. Who are the brutes? We, (jolly good fellows, who just making her compliments), or she who doesn't want to sell her useless, (and really nuisance), braid. What I always say GIRLS AREN'T GENTLEMEN. Only one thing prevented me of to be hurt and having aching heart - I was proud with myself, because I have done the DEED WITH BAGGY JEANS.

It was good lesson to me. Now even on trifle business in town I have a tuxedo and "orbit" in pocket. Talking about orbit, (chewing gum, if you don't know). I guess I just show one anti-american chain of reasoning. Gum is American stuff, (nobody will argue with it). All my TV-box is full with gums. They said: "Every time you eat .." If I began to comment advertising I would descent to the foulest language ever heard, (my thoughts and wishes would match it too). They say that chewing gums are very useful to my health. To say polite, (just like a gentleman), - I don't agree with them. I even sure that chewing is very dangerous to my health. (I chew gum only in extreme urgency). So the conclusion is ultimate - America, (origin of all gums in the world), is a LOL, (especially concerning my health).

Ok, Ok. Am I very angry with America? - I am very angry with girls. How I would wish it was I who said: "Oh, you bored me stiff with your all love!" to dozens and dozens girls every day. Where is the justice? Early I tried with "tic-tac", but they made so much noise in trousers' pocket. I felt every pedestrian hearing their clatter wanted to say: "And didn't you forget a preservative to your tic-tac today?" Some people wear heart pills. My heart pills were "orbit without sugar". Every time starting chewing it I think about girl and every time splitting it out I just remember America.

(..... or vice versa?)

16.May.99

Girls can be divided in two classes. Those who are married and those who have a guy. How could we work it out? Our objective is to make a girl to say to herself "This guy could be mine", to sow a scruple of doubt about her present "man" in her soul and to try to infect her with ideas concerning me. The task could be done with success only if you have good suit, soft, (or manlike?), face and cash.

There were days when I regularly walked to the job. My office was in 10 minutes of walk from Subway station. And practically every time I met the same girl on this pathway. I walked out of Subway, she walked in. It is evident that when I was reaching my office she only started her trip to the job. From this point two conclusions could be drawn. First, she was luckier than I and slept longer in the morning. Second, I was sufficiently lucky in having opportunity to make acquaintance every day.

Who was she? She was very good girl. Her figure was really good. (I'm tired to depict somebodies figures so I just mark that her legs were long, her neck was long too and all she was as straight as possible). She had an open face in which you could easily read the signs of intellect. (What those signs were in particularity I unable to say).

What didn't I like in her? She was tall. (A little bit higher then me when she was on the heels. (And she was on the heels every time)). Another point, she didn't glanced at me. I guess to meet a man every and don't glance at him is quiet uneasy task and she probably even saw me, (as a body). But she never looked in my eyes, and when I thought that I have caught her eye she managed to keep her glance as I wasn't there. She wasn't arrogant. I even risk to conjure she was demure herself.

I can't say she tried to escape me but she didn't give any sings of approval. It was narrow 10 minutes path between Station and living area. Both sides of it were encumbered with industrial zone. If it was ordinary street or thoroughfare, my chances in daily recognizing her would be insignificantly small. But it was really pedestrian pathway when there are only you and she who walks to meet you. Of course nor I nor she were punctual to a T but ten minutes path rounded our time. I could meet her in the beginning of the path or just coming to the office. First times I was afraid to lost her, but urgency to be on the job in time distracted me from doleful thoughts. After twelfth our accidental meeting I took calmer look of whole situation.

What was good I felt practically equal to her. I met her on my way to the job and when a man is going to job he is very proud of himself. You just feel you are on racket and you are a man of business. Of course it has its drawbacks. For example, you are uncertain should you run for good girl skipping your "checking time" or not. (As a rule on any kind of job, (except conveyor), there are a time when you should be on the spot and after that time you de facto allowed to do what you want. You just "dropped out for a little", nobody will make any fuss about temporarily lull in your prodigious working activity). So I can say they are evening meetings, which were more painful to me. To talk about pain would be not correct. She fled from my glance and having not glance you can't have good heart-aching.

Did she wait I try to go after her some day? At least she wouldn't be bewildered by that fact. It lasted for many months. Sometime I even met her on her returning home and had the most provoking ideas in the back of my forehead. What was the problem with me? You see, there are a girls which just passed only once near you and you must jump at once to be in time. And there are a girls who are "always on the spot". I didn't know anything about her but she was "always on the spot". I had a second chance every time. (I say there were another girls glued to one place, to whom I always was going to make romance but their permanent location spoilt my good intentions).

So I thought "I have enough time ahead". And more than it: there is the bitterest paradox - when you walking in the same direction with a girl you have good opportunity to follow her but haven't good chance to make a scrutiny of her face; but when you meet a girl walking in the opposite direction you see all you want but you need to change your trend to follow her.

I want to make this part short. What can I say about perpetual scruples and trembles in catching her eye? There were times when I practically made my mind up to follow her. Once I meet her right in the Subway station. You can say any hesitation leads us to the flop but I waited a spark, some unearth divinity - it never came.

***

It was a spring, the most dangerous to me time. I, like Alan Marshall, used to walk in my lunch time, (I heard Americans call it "coffee-break"). I had whole hour for myself, (and often made of it hour and half voyage over office vicinities). I just couldn't sit in my room and run into the open to see sun, girls and dogs. (I wonder, who of them was gladder in seeing me?) After some weeks all region became on good terms with me. There were ponds near but I preferred Subway station vicinities, (there were more dogs and girls there).

By the way they were namely ponds which were shown in movie "Moscow don't believe tears". But what should you expect near such ponds, romance? There are a lot of old crones and women with children. It is true you can see a romance in such parks, but surely, kissing pairs on bench are not what I wanted to look at. Nevertheless the weather was magnificent. (I wonder I should use abbreviations like "WWM - weather was magnificent", "girl was with PD, (perfect deportment) and so on. It would save me time and save you from hundred repeats and dullness).

In that days I liked chocolate. I had month ticket for Subway so I walked to the other station's exit to buy some sweets. In one of those days I met extraordinary girl. She wasn't so clever as that "girl on the path" but she wasn't a fool. And she was exceptionally stylish and her height was under mine. She was all in beige. Beige jeans, beige jacket, beige hair, (or light brown as I call it).

How did it happen? I strolled on the platform and lazily looked at arriving train. - I catch a glimpse of her even when she was in train-car. She hurried away. Fortunately I already had a chance in seeing her pretty serious face and she walked in direction, which suited me. As matter of fact she didn't walked or strolled but half run. When she was on the bus stop she took on sun glasses. It was very fashionable dark narrow glasses, I call them French glasses. (By the way did you see Martini Ad clips? Those where you can see many very stylish dudes and dolls?) We were in the bus. It was my general mistake I wasted this time in vain. I waited to follow her after she descend from it, but I misjudged her haste. I guess I was too shy to go to her in bus. In subway train the noise and the multitude of people make smoke screen to your "romantic operations", but in bus when so many respected old woman look at you and are eager to catch each your word. (Yes, I was too shy and unequal to make acquaintance in buses). But I had enough time to look at her, and the more I gaped the more I liked her.

My good knowledge of the suburbs added strength to my certainty in good chances after alighting. And she was out on the bus stop where I walked so often, so I was in right place at last. But her hurry was urgent. I began to say my soul to her nearly running. She was preoccupied with haste but remarked why I am addressing her without "Mrs". You know it was my practice and she, I guess, was only 18. (But 18 is ok and stylish without any stitch of tawdriness). From the outer point view it was like a pursuit. But it was wholly her fault. She didn't refuse me in rude form so I tried to persuade her right near her flat door. (I even walked through the porch door - the thing, no one unacquainted gentleman allowed). Only when the flat door was shut after her I cooled off a bit. But just a bit mind you.

You see all advantages were on my side. I was in good suite and in swellest duster. (As matter of fact I was all in black. Black shoes, (note very shiny and garish ones), back thin sweater, black cool cowboy's duster). All other circumstances were also in my favor. And it was a real hunt. She runs away, I pursue. You can say that old hungry wolf hunted his prey to a tree and began to roam under it in circles.

I knew there are girls who have something inside them, (I don't know what). Such girls make you suffer for a long time. This was another case. She was so perfect by her appearance so I just couldn't stop in following her. But I knew if I went home, I wouldn't begin that courting again. And this fact aggravated my wish to get her "right here right now". As for chances "right now" I was thinking skeptic but as about "right here" I was deadly sure. (As that wolf waiting for his prey under tree).

Were my further steps well balanced? At least I tried to add to them a grain of sane reasoning...

.... The time became to abandon image of Christoff Lamber's Loo from Mean Guns and to adopt Sherlockian way of thoughts, all the more situation became to remind me Scandal in Bohemia. I always envied even not silver reasoning of Sherlock Holmes but his skill in burning right versions. He had three main steps. First, to collect information, (you have no right to think about anything without having sufficient information). Second, to suppose some versions-explanations to collected facts. Third, to eliminate all wrong versions. I am sure on second step you should have a plenty of inspiration. And I had so needed inspiration in that time. (Next passages will content only my own surmises).

Why she was in so hurry? She was late to the lesson to private teacher. She was going to enter one of the most prestigious Moscow Institutes and she was a child of well-to-do parents, so she needed a private lessons. The time was a spring - just the time to be prepared for July examinations. Time was about two o'clock so she could easily run after school lessons to the private ones.

Conclusion was ultimate - after one or two academic hours she will be at my power. I made an ambush. I didn't want to make it too clear so I took remote post. It was my obvious mistake. Standing there I saw girls and guys going into and out. There weren't many of them, they walked by one or by two. The intervals were about 45 minutes. So my idea about lessons had some proofs. Where was a hitch? Probably she evaluated me as serious guy, probably her windows looked on the side of my vigilance, may be she went other way by accident. The fact is after four hours waiting I didn't meet her.

Standing and waiting I was making continuous calculations. I tried to fit the graphic with 45 minutes lessons, with one hour lessons, with "pair", (45+45minutes), with pair with break. I say any computer processor would envy the work of my brains in that time. I tried all possible calculations but she just didn't come. Then I tried to mend my original mistake and I came closer. But the destiny decided it's too dull to stand to me along there. In a few minutes there were tough guys. The house was placed in very quiet and picturesque part of city so they felt at ease there. The three of them coming their "meeting" were slightly surprised to see me loafing on their spot. I was so preoccupied with my deduction so I even didn't care about such things as gangsters at first time. But time was passing, (can't say that it sure flied, because I it was not so), and I realized somehow that it would be much more safer to retire on the old positions. Another half an hour passed, the gangsters were gone. (I even don't want to depict them. They weren't my "object").

Time is great healer. Was my theory good or bad it simply didn't give me the result so I gave my favor to the blunt attack. I knew her flat number, (as matter of fact I know it and phone number even now). By this time I just stand on the porch steps, I didn't care anymore about any public opinion. I just pushed "home-phone" and asked "Is she still there". It was no mistake, she was there because a womanlike voice of 14-16 year old boy said "I will call the police". I don't like such voices, (of womanlike youths), and I don't like the talks about police. My garments, which made me so like Christopher Lambert in Mean Guys, would be superfluous proof of my citizen unreliability. And we, (Sherlok Holmses), always felt scepsis to the part of police. They are too rude, such chumps never know real sense in real dealing.

So it was 100% flop but even Sherlock Holmes was cheated by a woman, and it wasn't his fault. At least I wasted on her about four hours. There weren't big difference. But only one my "day motion" had slight tint of goal and romance. The next day the objects for my watching and calculations were street crows and dogs, again. Do you need proofs? It happened on 16.april.98. At 16.45 PM I left that house. Try to find those tough guys, ask them what were they doing in that time and they will tell you the story.

End.

17.May.99

Extra. (Bonus track).

You see my story about my most flashing flop is finished but I decided to allow you another girl stuff. (It is just tenth page. I wonder, is it too short for my short stories).

That bus stop was familiar to me. The secret is. The office of my scientific adviser was in a few bus stops from my work office. It would take whole hour by Subway and it was only the question of minutes on the bus. That year I went to my scientific adviser sufficiently often. And do you know there are always regions in city where is a plenty of good girls. Some suppose it's central pedestrian streets, some thinks of Varsity suburbs, it's true, but there is unfathomable places like those when I met that girl in beige. May be it is medical clinics or institutes near, I don't know. (Idea about "medical" explanation came to me when I tried to make inquiries from other people). But the fact is the fact. There were many good girls on that street.

As a rule I saw them sitting in the bus. (I mean I was sitting in the bus and they were walking in the street). Of course I should alight on the nearest stop and run after them but it would be too cool for me. (You shouldn't run after girl if you hadn't a good look of her). I met one girl right in that bus. It's difficult to define her age correctly. I don't want to say the age means much to me I just want to you impression what she was. She was sitting and I standing near. She was probably under 18 but not childish or infantile. She wore short dress of girlish manner, and the dame French glasses. Those glasses suited her deliciously. Her dress was open but not dangerous. You see it was just in childish manner so you didn't count it as something provoking. (Once I see a girl, mere child under 16. She was typical "home girl", all her behavior was without poise and manners. She waked with her respectful mother on the street and wore black T-shirt with sign "Sexy", written in acid way).

But returning to that girl in the bus. She was really cool. She lacked that air of "cool Doclhe-Vita with money", which had beige girl, but she had air of simple Dolche Vita. She was the thing in itself, without any connection with her relatives, money, education or age. If you took her in Monaco she wold be good princess and if you left her where she was she wouldn't be offended.

Her dress was open and showed a lot of her. It was very light but not transparent. She herself was not tall but her proportions were .... (don't want to say "perfect" but don't see any use in saying "good"). She was slightly bony. Wow! I've got it! Do you see the picture on my Main page with girl in red cap? Her complexion was something about it. Only she was in dark sun-glasses. And when girl is very young and in sun glasses I'm slightly afraid of such girl. (I'm afraid of "experienced girl" of 25 too, but she knows what she does. She hurts you when she really wants to hurt you. But very young girl may hurt you just being very scared by you, not by any particular calculated reason).

So I saw at her as on wild cat. I knew I was much stronger than she, but I also knew that she could start scratch my eyes without warning. Of course there were a chance she would be just pleased and begin to purr but I shouldn't risk my eyes on that subject. (Do you believe me that there were times when practically every street cat tried to rub her spine on my trousers. (I talk now not in figural but in verbatim way). I even don't remember how much they were. One old man said that a cat feels good man and shows her humor to him. And when I saw a cat on street I knew she would make her way to me and begin to rub her neck and spine about me. It's pity I lost that gift in present days).

About that slim girl: In one moment I even felt really ill. It was the moment she alighted from the bus and with leisure became to examine the content of ice creams shelves of the nearest shop. It was perfect moment to start the game, (no hurry, no pursuit, - how wonderful!), but I again chose wrong position. My position remained in that damned bus, which drove me away from such embodiment of young & beauty.

.... The story is not ended but look at SHE. And this is my real and ultimate flop.