Last week, the dude at the stationary store lectured me for my improper use of the word "pregoditsa." I used it to mean "a useful object" when it actually means '"an object likely to come in handy in the future." I wondered long why a random man felt compelled to waste my time with a vocabulary lecture, until Saturday night at a Bulgari party in Baravikha Luxury Village, when it became clear to me that he was sent by Lady Fortune. When one minigarch used the word to his driver in reference to me and my friend Katie, his dishonourable intentions for us were immediately exposed. Unfortunately for the poor oil and gas baron, the stationary guy's lecture afforded me the opportunity to ensure that it was he who came in handy for us, as Baravikha Luxury Village is a $75 cab ride back into town.
Minigarch: I could not be but helping of noticing you across the soiree. You are wearing of the Orthodox cross. Are you as Orthodox as you are beautiful?
Minigarch: So, you know that the Orthodoxy is being of the only way to the salvation?
Me: Yes, extremely rich man, yes.
Minigarch: If you would allow it of me, I would like to take you to the monastery I am of the funding, where I have built a church. We can pray together.
Me smiles awkwardly, not wanting to pay for her own bollinger or cab ride back into town, but also not wanting to go to Hell.
Minigarch: I want to love only you. If you are not wearing of the underwear, my driver will bring my car, and I will love you in it right now. Then we can pray. Wait. Do you have any Jewish blood?
Me : Um, no.
Minigarch: Is your friend a Jew?
Katie: I'm scared.
While I did not let the minigarch love me in his BMW, I did let him take us to Dyagilev, where he spent $2K getting us drunk, then suggested heading on to teeny-bopper club Propaganda, where we were unceremoniously face controlled. When the minigarch took the security guard aside to settle the matter "like humans," Katie and I seized the opportunity to run away.
Dramatic, but it's not like we've never had to run for our lives through the streets of Moscow and hide behind trashcans from oil and gas barons who want to love and then pray and then love again, is it?