by Jim Nee
I think they like me
| I keep getting these emails in my SPAM box from Anna telling me that Exotic Russian Women Are Waiting For You NOW. The problem is, I don’t really remember Anna.
Is she the checkout lady at the supermarket? Or maybe the waitress from the diner we went to last week? They both smiled at me so I know they like me. They both wore name tags but women seem to get annoyed when I squint to get a better look at their shirts to read their names, so I don’t know if either one was Anna.
Although I have to confess I didn’t think either one was especially exotic. They were both overweight and, lets be honest, really very un-exotic looking. But they could have been Russian. (Not to be politically incorrect, but all that vodka tends to bloat you.) But they did smile at me, so maybe I shouldn’t be so picky.
My wife is a little more skeptical that I am. But then, I don’t remember them smiling at her. I think maybe she’s a little jealous.
I‘m concerned because I don’t speak any Russian. (Well, other than Nyet! How come the first word we learn as children is always the word No?) I haven’t opened any of the emails because I can’t read Russian either. Of course, the checkout lady and the waitress didn’t seem to speak Russian or even sound Russian.
And where are they waiting for me? Should I be worried? Do I have to check the backseat of my car before getting in? Maybe I took this the wrong way. Maybe these Russian women don’t actually like me. I’m old enough to remember Khrushchev banging his shoe on the table at the UN, proclaiming that they would bury us. Is that the kind of Russian women who are waiting for me? The ones you see in the Olympics lifting heavy weights?
I knew a couple of Russian women at work, but no one called Anna. They seemed to be nice and they smiled at me so I know they liked me too. But that was years ago. I can’t imagine they are still waiting for me.
Are these exotic Russian women waiting for me in Russia? Because I have no plans on going to Russia. I think New Jersey is cold; I can’t imagine going to Russia. NYET! No way. I don’t care how exotic they are. Wait, did that note say exotic or erotic? Let me think about this a little more.
NYET! Even if it said erotic, I’m not going to Russia. There are enough women around here who like me. Even if they are neither exotic nor erotic. That lady in the library that checks out the books smiled at me yesterday. I think she likes me. She is probably the furthest thing from exotic as you can get, but looks aren’t everything, right? And I don’t think she speaks a word of Russian.