
In Techno & in Health!
January 2019 — Phu Quoc, Vietnam.
I walk out of the lift and into the reception area of the hotel. Irena has messaged me informing me that she is here. We had matched several days earlier on Tinder sporadically exchanging messages since. The last few days however Irena seemed to have intensified her interest for us to meet up and have a drink.
The reception area is small and Irena isn’t there. I open the main doors and there she is. Down and to the left of me, sat at the side of the steps to the hotel front door.
‘Hello!’ I say in a chirpy manor.
Irena says nothing.
She just spends what feels like an age looking me up and down from head to toe. Scanning every detail of my 6ft 1inch height, with zero expression on her face.
Beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable I chirp up again.
‘Shall we find a bar then!?’
I tell her that there is one a couple of door down from here and this side of the road. She picks up her three quarters empty bottle of white wine from her side and sets off.
After a short walk we reach the bar. It’s small very quiet and nothing of any attraction. Four people are sat along the balcony. Their every word is very clear. I think to myself that the others will soon hear that we are on a date of sorts as soon as we begin to talk.
‘What would you like to drink?’ I ask.
‘Wine.’ Is snapped back at me. ‘But here in Vietnam they do not have good wine. It is very sweat.’ She responds in a very thick Russian accent.
The barman if very polite and honestly can’t do enough for us in trying to find us a ‘suitable’ white wine. But he has a very limited selection. From the way Irena picks up the various offerings, giving them nothing more than a once over look and then discarding it to do the same with the next. It’s very apparent that she is not overly enamoured with the choices on offer.
We take a seat in between the two sets of other drinkers on the balcony, overlooking the road. Scooters and cars speeding up and down. Cars beeping their horn every time they come close to a scooter to ensure the driver knows of the cars imminent presence.
We sit down and talk about what we do for a living and how we have arrived here on the Vietnamese island of Phu Quoc. I tell her about my time in Moscow earlier this year and during the World Cup and how much I loved the city.
Don’t give me this Bullshit!
‘I did found the underground train system a little difficult to navigate.’ I said.
‘The stations were beautiful.’ I added.
Before I could add anything else she snaps ‘Why!?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why was it so difficult for you?’
‘Because everything is written in Russian.’
‘No. All is in English. I know this because I checked when I was there. So don’t give me this bullshit!’
I raise my eyebrows and roll my eyes as I take a sip of my beer.
My initial thoughts are that this is going to be a difficult few hours or so. But I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe just lost in translation.
The evening continues with some very strained conversation and as it continues I begin to plan my exit strategy. Irena is very resolute in her opinion. With not even a hint of debate, compassion or compromise for any difference of opinion.
Then she says (in her thick Russian accent)
‘Ok, let me ask you serious question. How would you like to make some money?’
Never one to potentially miss the opportunity of a lifetime ‘go on’ I say.
‘We marry so I have European passport?’
I am honestly astounded……Speechless in fact.
‘It is so difficult for us to travel because we need visa for every country. This is bullshit! For you is easy. You don’t understand how difficult it is.’
Then she asks ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Clearly my astonishment is visible across my face.
‘I have money. I can pay.’ She says with a shrug of the shoulders. ‘We marry then two years we divorce. I get passport and you get money. Is a good deal no?’.
I’m still speechless. I have zero response. A very rare occasion for me I have to be honest. The first words to come tumbling out of my mouth are one of sheer curiosity.
‘And what might the going rate for such a deal be?’
‘Ten thousand!’
‘UK or US?’
‘UK. In US is much higher but I am not so desperate. Also it depends on what city in the US.’
She then begins to recite cities and their ‘going rate’. Like she was reading them off a menu.
‘NYC 25K, Texas 50K’ and so on.
It begins to dawn on me that she is deadly serious.
I lean in a little towards her. ‘Look, I got to be honest. It’s not something I’m interested. But thank you for the offer.’
‘Maybe you have friends that would be interested?’
My first response is to snigger a little whilst taking another mouthful of my beer. Then I quickly file through my single friends….and not so single friends in my head. Looking for those who might be up for making a few quid.
‘I can ask but I don’t think so.’
‘Yes ask. Maybe they say yes.’
I take a look at my watch to see what time it is. A very apparent gesture. I’ve already told her in previous messages that I am here on the island for a music festival. It had been the reason why I had not previously been able to arrange a get together.
‘Sorry but I’m here for the techno. Not the girls.’ I had stated previously in a message.
From the expression on her face she isn’t very impressed.
‘Look. I’m really sorry but I need to make a move. There is DJ starting in forty minutes that I really want to see.’
That was a little white lie. He wasn’t due on for an hour and forty but I needed to get this wrapped up and I didn’t want to offend. Irena had already finished her drink. I had about half a bottle left. I took a couple of mouth fulls from it. I’ve never been one able to down beer straight from a bottle. Irena then takes my bottle and turns it so she see how much is left behind the label and hands it back. I continue to finish the bottle and we make our way out of the bar onto the road.
The once busy road is suddenly empty. No sign of any traffic. So we start to walk in the direction we will be heading once we do find a taxi.
A couple of minutes later and we flag a taxi. We are in the taxi less than one minute. I feel Irena’s hand is now on my leg and caressing it. Down to my knee and back up my thigh again. It actually felt nice, and I did wonder just how high she might take her hand for a second. Then she breaks the silence in the car.
‘Maybe I can change your mind about marriage. Why not see how good it would be?’ she asks?
In my head I think she means to kiss. But I have been suffering from a cold and have been pretty vocal with my cough all night.
‘I don’t think it would be a good idea. I don’t want to give you my cold?’
Now she has a look of amazement and astonishment on her face. Now I realise she wanted more than a kiss. She looks herself up and down whilst asking me
‘you do not want to try this?’
‘I’m really sorry but I don’t think it would be a good idea. Plus I wouldn’t see the start of the DJ I really want to see. Techno Before girls remember!’ My attempt at letting her down gently.
‘This will be the biggest mistake of your life.’ She response in an almost movie villain like tone.
Thankfully the festival entrance isn’t far. Less than five minutes in a car. The taxi goes to turn down the long approach road but I stop him.
‘It’s ok boss. Stop here. I walk.’
I lean into Irena and kiss her on both cheeks. European style. Thank you for a lovely evening. I have really enjoyed it. Maybe next time I am in Russia we could meet?’
‘Yes. I think we should.’
I make my exit sharp out of the car and close the door behind me. Puff out my cheeks with a long exhale and widen my eyes.
Time to get my two-step on!
As bent as the Soviet sickle, and as hard as the hammer that crosses it.
- Turkish, Snatch 2000.