I also felt hungry, the kind of hunger you get when
you have accomplished something big. I had…I had met Olga.
I checked my watch; breakfast was in progress down
below in the restaurant, so I headed for the shower.
As the tiny, hot water droplets massaged my body, my
mind scanned over the memories of the previous evening. I wanted to remember
everything; every last wonderful detail, every word spoken, every delightful feeling.
We had talked on the phone, for at least an hour I thought, when I had returned
to my room at the Hotel Ukraina. She had scolded me for walking through the
park which lay between the metro station and the hotel. She emphasised how
dangerous the area becomes after dark. I was delighted that she cared. The rest
of the conversation was about nothing in particular, just chatting for the sake
of chatting, to remain in contact, not wanting the connection between us to
break. I remembered that we agreed to meet again that evening. She would come
to my hotel after she finished work. The warm fuzzy feeling returned.
I finished drying myself, dressed and bounded out of
my room and along the hall to the lifts with abundant jubilation.
I entered the restaurant to confront an unexpected
surprise. The dining area was filled to the brim with extremely large, obese
men and the breakfast buffet was almost completely devoid of food. It was all
quite surreal. I observed the men more closely. Their plates were piled high
with mountains of food and many had several more plates in waiting. Then I
noticed their T-shirts emblazoned with the news that a Sumo wrestling
championship was occurring in Moscow that week. I was stunned at the
coincidence. The kitchen, obviously, was barely able to produce enough food to
keep up with demand of these giant beasts. It meant my breakfast experience
would be severely depleted. It was a disappointing thought. I took a plate and
foraged for what scraps of food remained on the servery and made a mental note
to arrive for breakfast precisely at opening time for the rest of the week.
After breakfast I returned to my room to give Sergei a
call at the agency. He had requested that I
provide feedback on Olga’s character for his future reference. I decided to use
the opportunity to inform him that I was not interested any more in meeting any
of the ladies on the list which I had given him.
He was appreciative of my comments regarding Olga and
was pleased our meeting had gone well but was apprehensive towards my decision
to cancel the other meetings. He asked if I had proposed to her and if I had
received a “yes” in reply. Slightly taken aback to this line of questioning I
assured him that I hadn’t. He then urged me to reconsider until I had at least obtained
some form of verbal commitment to marriage. “It is a very competitive world” he
said.
I politely declined his offer and asked him to pass on
my gratitude to his wife for her involvement in my introduction to Olga for
which I was extremely thankful. I made it clear to Sergei that I was more than
prepared to let the courting ritual with Olga run its course and that I would
take my chances at the prospect of it ending in a marriage. As I replaced the
handset, the irony of a Russian telling me it was a competitive world didn’t escape
my thought.
That evening, just before darkness fell, I met Olga in
the hotel lobby looking as happy and radiant as I remembered. It seemed no
change of thought had occurred during the day and we were simply moving on from
where we left off the night before.
She drove me back towards the centre of Moscow and we
strolled along the Ulitsa Arbat, a pedestrian mall lined with restaurants, bars
and coffee houses, as the night descended upon us. She asked me what I would
like to eat and I insisted that we go somewhere “special”, so she quickly led
me towards a Korean restaurant with heightened exuberance.
The restaurant was spectacularly decorated with Korean
décor and frequented with a number Korean expats in traditional Korean dress.
The atmosphere was particularly formal. A young, buxom Russian waitress seated
us and provided us with measured amounts of attentive charm.
As we feasted upon delicious Korean delicacies our
conversation turned to my intentions in Russia. I admitted that I had planned
to spend a week in Moscow and then the remaining week of my leave break in St
Petersburg. I withheld my plans of visiting the Angelika
office there as well. To my complete amazement and surprise she offered to come
with me. I almost choked on my dessert. How could she possibly be serious? She
must have picked up on my surprise from my facial expressions and iterated the
suggestion. I didn’t know quite how to respond but without being able to think
of any clear reason why she shouldn’t, I agreed. In any case, Russia had so far
been full of surprises so why not some more.
With that decided we concluded our meal discussing the
trip with bountiful amounts of excitement. We would leave the following
Thursday evening and Olga would take the Friday off work giving us three full
days in the canal city. At that point in time I had not considered my transport
options to St Petersburg but with Olga accompanying me the choice was obvious.
I was to purchase plane tickets as well as reserving accommodation.
All too soon we were back out on Ulitsa Arbat, which
was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights and crowded with young couples,
arm-in-arm and leaning into wards each other keeping warm. We searched for an
inviting coffee house to sample Russian cake and drink hot chocolate.
As we walked, my mind was giddy with emotion. It was incredulous that this spirited individual beside me, brimming with enthusiasm and with mesmerizingly sparkling eyes, had been thrust into my life in such a dramatic manner. The next ten days of my life were now suddenly interwoven with hers and as I gave the thought more consideration, the more the idea appealed to my being.
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