CurlyDarling
03-26-2010, 08:47 AM
The other night I had the most interesting conversation I think I've ever had in Moscow.
And it was about poultry. Chickens, to be precise.
I've been thinking that maybe it wasn't the topic per se but the milieu in which it occurred that made this particular chat fascinating.
But whatever the reason, I was enthralled.
I was at a party in the United States Marine Barracks, talking with the guy who is working to resolve the "Chicken Ban" dispute with Russia.
Personally, I'll take my chicken with or without a dash of chlorine on the side.
My theory is that because I smoke (among other things), a little chlorine's certainly not going to be the chemical that does me in.
I actually don't think a little chlorine's going to do anyone in, but the Europeans and the Russians seem to have a morbid fear of it and completely disagree.
You meet the most interesting people when you hang out with the Marine Corps.
You meet Liaison Officers with the FBI and Sergeants-at-Arms and Heads of the Embassy Guards and tons of Special Forces dudes.
You meet really cool chicks who work for NASA. And of course, remarkable guys who are working to resolve the Chicken Ban crisis.
And you meet Marines. Lots and lots of Marines.
I'm not sure life gets better than being in a room with lots and lots of Marines, particularly when you're abroad in a place like Russia.
Most women would agree with me on that. There's nothing that's a bigger turn-on for us girls than an American man in uniform.
Except an American man in uniform completely out of uniform, I suppose.
I dated an SF guy once (that's "Special Forces" for those of you who aren't used to hanging out with the military and therefore aren't in the know). We met when I had to live on a Central American Naval Base for a week for reasons that are too complicated to explain here.
The first night of my stay, the officers put on a welcome dinner for me by the beach. They all wore dress uniform for the event and I was pretty much in "An Officer and a Gentleman" Heaven. The SF man was there, sitting to my right.
When dinner ended and I was walking back to my VIP accommodation, Mr. SF came up behind me and said, "Just where do you think you're going?"
I turned around and actually WAS in "An Officer and a Gentleman" Heaven as he lifted me effortlessly into his arms and carried me to my quarters and my bed. As I recall, I offered little or no resistance... In fact, I think I offered a great number of deep, wet, passionate kisses.
These military types know how to romance women.
I think it's their training. You don't meet insecure, imprecise guys in the armed forces. They've got the enemy to worry about; a girl's a piece of cake.
So I was pleased when I ended up meeting the SF guys at the Marine Bar and going out with one of them the other night here in Moscow. After all, I have fond memories of the Special Forces.
There are a few advantages to going out with a member of the SF here that you can't get going out with either normal expats or Russians. First, Moscow suddenly presents no danger to you whatsoever. Like: none. Second, these men are incredibly fit. Like: incredibly.
But the most amazing benefit of all was this: for the first time ever in Moscow, I got picked up at my flat precisely on time.
Flying down the stairs with my hair still wet, I cried "My God! You're on time! That's never happened to me here! I didn't expect you for at least another 20 minutes!"
The SF gentleman in question shook his head in disgust and said something that flabbergasted me.
"No. I'm 20 seconds late. I'm so very sorry about that."
See? These military types know how to romance women.
xxoo
DD
Deidre Dare
Moscow News
And it was about poultry. Chickens, to be precise.
I've been thinking that maybe it wasn't the topic per se but the milieu in which it occurred that made this particular chat fascinating.
But whatever the reason, I was enthralled.
I was at a party in the United States Marine Barracks, talking with the guy who is working to resolve the "Chicken Ban" dispute with Russia.
Personally, I'll take my chicken with or without a dash of chlorine on the side.
My theory is that because I smoke (among other things), a little chlorine's certainly not going to be the chemical that does me in.
I actually don't think a little chlorine's going to do anyone in, but the Europeans and the Russians seem to have a morbid fear of it and completely disagree.
You meet the most interesting people when you hang out with the Marine Corps.
You meet Liaison Officers with the FBI and Sergeants-at-Arms and Heads of the Embassy Guards and tons of Special Forces dudes.
You meet really cool chicks who work for NASA. And of course, remarkable guys who are working to resolve the Chicken Ban crisis.
And you meet Marines. Lots and lots of Marines.
I'm not sure life gets better than being in a room with lots and lots of Marines, particularly when you're abroad in a place like Russia.
Most women would agree with me on that. There's nothing that's a bigger turn-on for us girls than an American man in uniform.
Except an American man in uniform completely out of uniform, I suppose.
I dated an SF guy once (that's "Special Forces" for those of you who aren't used to hanging out with the military and therefore aren't in the know). We met when I had to live on a Central American Naval Base for a week for reasons that are too complicated to explain here.
The first night of my stay, the officers put on a welcome dinner for me by the beach. They all wore dress uniform for the event and I was pretty much in "An Officer and a Gentleman" Heaven. The SF man was there, sitting to my right.
When dinner ended and I was walking back to my VIP accommodation, Mr. SF came up behind me and said, "Just where do you think you're going?"
I turned around and actually WAS in "An Officer and a Gentleman" Heaven as he lifted me effortlessly into his arms and carried me to my quarters and my bed. As I recall, I offered little or no resistance... In fact, I think I offered a great number of deep, wet, passionate kisses.
These military types know how to romance women.
I think it's their training. You don't meet insecure, imprecise guys in the armed forces. They've got the enemy to worry about; a girl's a piece of cake.
So I was pleased when I ended up meeting the SF guys at the Marine Bar and going out with one of them the other night here in Moscow. After all, I have fond memories of the Special Forces.
There are a few advantages to going out with a member of the SF here that you can't get going out with either normal expats or Russians. First, Moscow suddenly presents no danger to you whatsoever. Like: none. Second, these men are incredibly fit. Like: incredibly.
But the most amazing benefit of all was this: for the first time ever in Moscow, I got picked up at my flat precisely on time.
Flying down the stairs with my hair still wet, I cried "My God! You're on time! That's never happened to me here! I didn't expect you for at least another 20 minutes!"
The SF gentleman in question shook his head in disgust and said something that flabbergasted me.
"No. I'm 20 seconds late. I'm so very sorry about that."
See? These military types know how to romance women.
xxoo
DD
Deidre Dare
Moscow News