She Is Bitch (Part 4 of 5)


In all fairness, some of the girls were rather cute. Out of the three categories of women in Riga, two were present: bitch and desperate. The desperate girls were easy to spot: they were fat and poorly dressed. The bitches were always sexy.

“Hey, look at that girl,” Luigi said, pointing towards a fat brunette. “On Badoo she asked me 150 lats to fuck her.”

“That’s $300. Are you sure she didn’t mean 1.50 lats?”

“No, I’m sure.”

“If she’s asking that much, I guess that means that there are actually guys who have paid. Fucking sex tourists.”

Luigi said, “This is my last visit here. Let’s get a drink and try to have a good time.”

By “let’s get a drink” he actually meant “how about if you buy me a drink?” I figured his funds were tight since he was always complaining about the high drink prices.

I handed him a vodka and Red Bull and he immediately started talking to a short blonde. She was a country girl with below-average looks. I put her in the desperate category. When they were still talking five minutes later, I knew he was in. All of a sudden I felt alone and in need to chat up a girl. Going out with Luigi I actually talked to very few girls because I was so busy talking to him.

I saw a tall blonde standing by the dance floor. She was wearing heels and a mini-skirt—a typical scammer chick, but she had a girl-next-door vibe with Princess Leia braided hair and a plain face. Because I knew all the scams, I felt immune.

I approached her and said, “You look like speak English.”

“A little,” she said.

“Are you Russian or Latvian?”

“I’m Russian.”

“I’m actually learning Russian now. I’m studying one hour a day. It’s a hard language.”

She didn’t seem impressed and turned away slightly. I glanced over at Luigi. His girl was laughing. There were two foreign guys for every Latvian girl, so I had to try to make this one work.

I looked at her and said, “Do you want to dance?” She said yes.

After a couple minutes on the dance floor I put my hand on her hip, but she stepped back and made an X with her arms. Okay, relax, no problem. She eventually warmed up and we were dancing somewhat close.

I said, “This club is awful. I want to kill myself for coming here.”

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asked.

“Yes. I know a normal club we can go to.”

“Then let’s go.”

I felt like we were two lost souls, stuck in a club we both hated, extremely lucky to have found each other.

I can’t believe how naïve I was.


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