Kill Cupid: Internet dating just got dangerous by J. Brandon Best
Authors: J. Brandon Best
Ads: Link
packets of wages that is.’ Willy said brightly.
‘Yes I can imagine… but Zhana will love it, no doubt.’
Proposing to Zhana had been a last minute thing for Willy and not because of uncertainty or doubt. He was just too scared, afraid she’d say no . . He wanted to propose after their first day, but knew that was ridiculous. They only had a week together in Moscow, so he hoped by the seventh day it might not seem so hasty and crazy, particularly for the woman he wished to ask. But he was understandably nervous, considering the only one time he’d proposed - to a local German girl - she said no then broke the relationship off completely. Anyway, the morning he was returning to Frankfurt he asked Zhana while she took a bath and to his delight she said yes.
From the moment he laid eyes on Zhana’s internet profile, he knew she would suit him perfectly. She was just as he’d imagined and for him, just what he desired physically and in personality. He felt she complemented him in ways a woman should. She was beautiful and he was plain looking. She’d make him look good. She was bright and witty while he was quiet. She was impulsive while he was calculating. Most important, she was alone and so was he.
Willy had not married, although his live-in relationship with his ex wound up bearing him a son. Their defacto life died four years before and now, he lamented that the relationship was still strained. Ultimately this meant he saw little of his young teenage child. The fact Zhana had a boy appealed to him because maybe it would give him the chance to enjoy a relationship with a son after all.
Unlike Bronte, Willy had experience with Russian girls though not in a relationship. German lads from his era grew up with a certain mystique about the countless fair maidens behind the Iron Curtain. While Germany was divided, many young men from the universities had love schemes with schones madchen from the East side. His father had told him it was widely acknowledged among the soldiers during and after the war that the further east one went, the prettier the girls became.
The communist system had brought about equality of the sexes long before Germany and without the need for women’s rights movements in the 1960’s. Willy knew from history classes that Russia had 800,000 women serving in WWII and seventy percent saw action alongside the men. If a woman could do a man’s job, give it to her and give her equal pay was the philosophy the Russians had grown up with. So while Russia had closed borders to the west, the impact of feminine rights was bouncing off the Iron Curtain. Back in the USSR, girls were still girls and proud of their femininity.
Willy was straight laced, old fashioned even. He still preferred girls to be girls and dress like girls. Where he came from, many were dressing more and more like boys and wearing boy’s clothes. So far as he could see, boys were still not trying to dress like girls.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was obvious the taxi driver couldn’t make sense of the address or map Rolf had scribbled on the napkin. Bronte wasn’t the only man on earth with no understanding of this piece of alien hieroglyph. He sat in the back seat, the driver behind the wheel, the car going nowhere.
‘Must’ve had too many beers,’ Bronte offered as a reference to the author of the illegible note. The cabby continued ranting, waving the note in the air. With no idea, he paid no attention to Bronte anyway. The frustrated cabbie had less chance of deciphering Rolf’s directions in the poor interior car lighting than Bronte had under the canteen fluoro moments before. A man in a black beanie appeared out of the dark and tapped on the window glass. He began a brief exchange before the driver handed the stranger the map. After looking it over more words were spoken then the stranger passed it back to
‘Yes I can imagine… but Zhana will love it, no doubt.’
Proposing to Zhana had been a last minute thing for Willy and not because of uncertainty or doubt. He was just too scared, afraid she’d say no . . He wanted to propose after their first day, but knew that was ridiculous. They only had a week together in Moscow, so he hoped by the seventh day it might not seem so hasty and crazy, particularly for the woman he wished to ask. But he was understandably nervous, considering the only one time he’d proposed - to a local German girl - she said no then broke the relationship off completely. Anyway, the morning he was returning to Frankfurt he asked Zhana while she took a bath and to his delight she said yes.
From the moment he laid eyes on Zhana’s internet profile, he knew she would suit him perfectly. She was just as he’d imagined and for him, just what he desired physically and in personality. He felt she complemented him in ways a woman should. She was beautiful and he was plain looking. She’d make him look good. She was bright and witty while he was quiet. She was impulsive while he was calculating. Most important, she was alone and so was he.
Willy had not married, although his live-in relationship with his ex wound up bearing him a son. Their defacto life died four years before and now, he lamented that the relationship was still strained. Ultimately this meant he saw little of his young teenage child. The fact Zhana had a boy appealed to him because maybe it would give him the chance to enjoy a relationship with a son after all.
Unlike Bronte, Willy had experience with Russian girls though not in a relationship. German lads from his era grew up with a certain mystique about the countless fair maidens behind the Iron Curtain. While Germany was divided, many young men from the universities had love schemes with schones madchen from the East side. His father had told him it was widely acknowledged among the soldiers during and after the war that the further east one went, the prettier the girls became.
The communist system had brought about equality of the sexes long before Germany and without the need for women’s rights movements in the 1960’s. Willy knew from history classes that Russia had 800,000 women serving in WWII and seventy percent saw action alongside the men. If a woman could do a man’s job, give it to her and give her equal pay was the philosophy the Russians had grown up with. So while Russia had closed borders to the west, the impact of feminine rights was bouncing off the Iron Curtain. Back in the USSR, girls were still girls and proud of their femininity.
Willy was straight laced, old fashioned even. He still preferred girls to be girls and dress like girls. Where he came from, many were dressing more and more like boys and wearing boy’s clothes. So far as he could see, boys were still not trying to dress like girls.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was obvious the taxi driver couldn’t make sense of the address or map Rolf had scribbled on the napkin. Bronte wasn’t the only man on earth with no understanding of this piece of alien hieroglyph. He sat in the back seat, the driver behind the wheel, the car going nowhere.
‘Must’ve had too many beers,’ Bronte offered as a reference to the author of the illegible note. The cabby continued ranting, waving the note in the air. With no idea, he paid no attention to Bronte anyway. The frustrated cabbie had less chance of deciphering Rolf’s directions in the poor interior car lighting than Bronte had under the canteen fluoro moments before. A man in a black beanie appeared out of the dark and tapped on the window glass. He began a brief exchange before the driver handed the stranger the map. After looking it over more words were spoken then the stranger passed it back to
Similar Books
