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My Russian Tale

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Dashing and daring, courageous and caring, faithful and friendly with stories to shaaaare. All through the –


“Who were you talking to, woman? Why aren’t you answering your phone?”



“The Russian,” I mumble.


“You know who!”

I hung out with Flynn yesterday. Of course, his name isn’t actually Flynn, but it will be on this blog, for the sake of anonymity and because he kind of reminds me of our new favourite Disney hero. Except gay and a lot cuddlier.


And he really didn’t know who I meant when I talked about the Russian. I must say, I was surprised.  How could I not have told him one of the most comical tales in my arsenal? Amends had to be made. So as we made our way through the numbing cold that seems to be the world now, carrying way-too-heavy bags of wine, I began the story.

“So, the Russian…”


He wasn’t really paying attention, not yet. The bags were dragging us down and the rain felt like tiny little needles on the skin. But I continued anyway. He would listen alright.

“I met him online a few years ago. We chatted for a couple of weeks, and he came over here to see me. We had coffee and stuff, and it was really nice. He was staying at this fancy hotel, so I went back there with him –“

“Boo, you whore.”

I snorted.

Anyway. We played around some, ordered room service – I’d never tried that before, it’s so cool! – and played some more. “

“Was it good?”

“Yeah,” I said, grateful the cold hid my blushing. “He had this really large dildo. And I mean really large. Vanessa has dubbed it The Arm.”

As I said the last part, I raised my hand and put on my best doomsday voice. Flynn lifted one eyebrow. He didn’t look at me, but I knew I had his attention now.

“So, the next day we said goodbye. I was still living at home you know, so I had to get on my way, and he had to drive all the way back across the country. It was that winter some years back, the one that was so freakishly cold, remember?”

“Oh yes.”

“As I’m slushing through the snow, I’m freezing my ass off. And that’s when I realize I forgot my cardigan. So I text the Russian, ask him if he has my cardigan or if I need to go back to the hotel for it.”

“Did you?”

I laughed.

“Not for the cardigan, no. Russian texts me back that he has my cardigan right here, but if I’m keen on seeing the hotel again, maybe I should ask if they found the dildo.”

Flynn stopped dead in his tracks.




“I wasn’t really going to go, but then he started saying that he totally understood if it was too embarrassing for me. And you know you can’t say that to me. No way. So I dragged Vanessa with me up there the next day. We’d only known each other for a couple of months then. I guess that was kinda awkward.”

Flynn made half a nod in my direction. Apparently all the snarky comments had fled him for a moment.

“So we enter the lobby, and there is this really young guy behind the counter. I go up to him and say Hey, I was here this weekend, and I happened to forget my dildo. I wondered if you had found it?

“What did he say?”

“You won’t believe how professional he was. Completely stone faced, he says that personal belongings have not been gathered from the rooms yet, but if I want, I can come back tomorrow and ask again. And I, in exactly the same tone, say thank you and I will.”

“Well, did you?”

“Yeah. The Russian told me that if I managed to retrieve it, I could keep it. All five ton of it. But I had to go alone the second time, because Vanessa was busy.”

“Hah! Sure she was.”

“Pfft! This time, there is a young blonde girl behind the counter. And people waiting in line behind me, which I do my best to ignore. Same routine. I was there that weekend, lost my dildo, have they found it? She is just as professional as the guy from yesterday. Gives me her most pleasant smile and says One moment, I just have to make a call. She goes into the office next door, and I stand as straight as I can, trying to ignore the dead silence from the elderly couple behind me. And that’s when we hear her on the phone, voice carrying as clear as if she was right in front of us. Hi, she says. It’s that girl with the dildo again!

Flynn erupted into laughter. I allowed myself a smug smile as I waited for him to finish.

“But uh… did you ever get the dildo?” he asked when he had calmed down.

“No,” I sighed. “Not that it could just disappear, you know. I imagine it is the trophy in some office. Either that, or a cleaning lady somewhere is very, very happy.”


7 responses »

  1. Fantastic! Oh to be a part of this amazing universe, that is your brain.. Life seem a lot more.. interesting written through your words. Keep up the good work!


  2. As much as the dildo was a loss and much missed.
    The pleasure of… Maneuvering the beast into position is even more missed.
    And holy frak it was a cold night!

    • Not as cold as the second time, remember? That was when we ran around town in the blizzard, trying to pick up Christmas presents for my brother. ;)

      • It was horrendous! That still brings a shiver to my body!
        But it made the snuggle that much better :)

        Also: Spell check suggests horehounds as an alternative to horrendous. O_o

  3. I suspect that if you could pull this off twice with a straight face, people wouldn’t want to play poker against you. Tip


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