Monday, February 04, 2013

My "Russian Ballet Dancer" Story

It was about five, maybe six years ago.

The salsa scene in Minneapolis was at its peak and I was also at the peak of my game.  I was in the top 5% of salsa dancers, I was able to bench 175 pounds, run 10 miles, and there really wasn't a girl that said no.  I was making great coin both teaching dance and in banking, and not that I wasn't confident before, but I was supremely confident now.

Thus when I saw the perfectly sculpted, tight little bodied brunette, I was unfazed in my approach.

We danced ONE song.  I knew not to ask her to dance again that night.  She was too good looking.  Every player would be suffocating her.  I would demonstrate superior "market value" by dancing with every other girl in the club and wait till the next time I met her to dance.  I'd be aloof, and my aloofness would set me apart.

Just one problem.

When the song ended and I bid her farewell by saying, "thanks for the dance," she didn't leave, but rather followed me outside to where my friend and I had a table.  I didn't notice until I turned around to sit and saw that she had followed me out.

This was odd.  She was about a 9.8.  No girl in the history of 9.8 girls ever did that.  And hotornot rated me only an 8.6, at least one standard deviation away to make this statistically significantly odd.

She said, "Can I join you?"

My friend and I looked at each other, mentally shrugged our shoulders at one another, and said "sure."

She was Russian.  Formally trained as a ballet dancer and had performed many times in Moscow.  She moved to the states about 6 years ago and was currently attending the University of Minnesota for a degree in Business.  I also went to the same school and so an intelligent and familiar conversation broke out.

It was soon apparent to me and my friend that this woman was definitely from the former Soviet Bloc.  She was cultured, she was educated, she spoke intelligently, she was polite, she was skinny, and above all else, she didn't seem to play games.  She wanted to sit and talk with us and even asked me to dance a couple more times.  Had I been just 2 years younger I would have entertained idealistic thoughts of her being "The One," but experience and cool head made it so I played my cards right.  After another 90 minutes of conversation, interspersed with me excusing myself to dance "with another friend," I said I had to get home to go to bed (which I didn't) and left the club.  We exchanged numbers and if I recall correctly, she called me first.  She wanted to go dancing again.

We went on a couple genuine "dates."  Nothing seemed to be wrong with this girl.  She was intelligent, she had a sense of humor, she picked up on my jokes, and we developed a handful of inside jokes which bonded us further.  I had the coveted "Russian Ballet Dancer" in my convertible and as far as I could tell, she was into me.

After the token third date we returned to my house for the third-date-tradition-mandated sex.

And that's when the other shoe dropped.

It was apparent she was uncomfortable taking her clothes off.  Her body was perfect, so I had no idea why, but once we became intimate she started crying.

I stopped and asked what was wrong.

Turns out she was a mail order bride.  She was brought to the US by a sergeant in the airlift wing at Fort Snelling.  Apparently, he enjoyed beating the crap out of her while having sex, thus scarring her from sex for the rest of her life.  Again, if it was 2 years earlier, I would have had overly idealistic expectations and this would have phased me and made me angry.  By now I just learned there was always going to be a critical deal breaker with every girl. 

Since sex was off the table, so was she, and we reverted to friendship.

The next six months I would invite her out with my friends.  The reason she originally wanted to sit with me and my friend was that she just got out of her abusive relationship and had no social network.  Her husband made her a kept woman are rarely let her out of the house.  Having pity on her and wanting to make sure she could enjoy and healthy social life with quality friends I welcomed her into my "Crew."  We'd invite her out dancing, we took her to her first "drive in," and welcomed her into our little club.  I even had her come to my parent's house with other "Orphans" (friends whose parents lived too far away or were dead) for Christmas.  She was a good friend, but by the 7th or 8th month, she started becoming flaky.  We'd invite her out, she'd cancel at the last minute.  She said she was on her way, and she'd never show.  It got to the point she become "one of those people" who you could rely on being unreliable.

I didn't inquire, let alone care, because I wasn't dating her, but she kept mentioning her new female friends she made and that they were always going to down town clubs.  She lived downtown and so it was convenient for her, but it become a less frequent event to see her, and a common event to have her flake.

Her 30th birthday was coming and knowing she didn't have a cemented social network, just the teenybopper girls she was hanging out with, me and my friends decided to throw a surprise birthday party for her.  I even wrote her a spoof "children's book" to address an inside joke we had about Russian buffaloes.  Everybody was at my house.  We had the decorations, a big "Happy 30th Birthday Sign," and everybody was dressed up.

It was 6:15, she was supposed to be there at 6:00.  Where was she?

I called her.

Sure enough, she said she was going to cancel on us and go night clubbing with her friends.

I lost it.

I yelled at her like a father would a spoiled and inconsiderate child.  I told her all of her friends had set aside time in their day to celebrate her 30th birthday and...well..you get the idea.

She felt guilty enough she showed up, but I decided to 86 the evening plans we had for her.

Instead of dinner at Mancini's I moved dinner to a shitty and cheap Chinese restaurant in the burbs.

Instead of salsa dancing at Babalu, I said we *might* catch a movie.

And instead of friends showing up, I had them scramble with the understanding we'd rendezvous after I'd ditch the ballet dancer at a yet to be determined venue.

I even opted to hold onto the book I made for her because I found it an interesting conversation piece.

What few people who did show up for the Chinese dinner didn't much talk to her.  I ignored her, and mere small talk was sent her way.  The tab came, nobody volunteered to pay for her "birthday dinner," and I said, "well, have a good night everybody."  And we left.  It was the last I'd see of her for 5 years.

The "post game analysis" was one of unanimity.  We all came to the same conclusion, even the women - she was "Americanized."  She ran into a cackle of modern day, 20 something American bar flies that were accustomed to being the standard discourteous, inconsiderate flakes most American girls had become.  She went from a refined, dignified, adult, mature, intelligent, and interesting person, to just another typical shallow, hollow, mass-produced flake.  She went from something unique and special, to something common and worthless.  And in doing so she lost what I consider to be one of the highest quality group of friends and any shot at a man of better quality than her abusive sergeant ex-husband.

It wasn't until I saw her 5 years later that time took its toll and delivered its revenge.  She didn't have the tight little body, she was pudgy.

She didn't have perfectly smooth skin. It was starting to wrinkle.

She didn't dress immaculately as she once did.  She was dressed unappealingly. 

And I noticed her current cadre of friends were not as reliable or interesting as my Crew.

I was glad to see she was so successful at transforming herself into another everyday, average American woman.

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22 comments:

Anonymous said...

She was cultured, she was educated, she spoke intelligently, she was polite, she was skinny, and above all else, she didn't seem to play games.

IOW, she was about as American as the Soyuz Space Station.

...and she was available ON KINDLE!!!

The Observer said...

It's a poison, isn't it?

Oh well, the decline can't come soon enough! I know I'm enjoying it.

Mike Miles said...

Great and sad story. My ex went from a sweet beautiful Colombian to a jaded American Also.

Did your ballerina look anything like this?:
http://ninetymilesfromtyranny.blogspot.com/2013/02/ballerinas-late-at-night.html

Anonymous said...

You just got Instalanched! I enjoy your blog.

Sithicus said...

Did her temper changed as well?

Quartermain said...

"I was glad to see she was so successful at transforming herself into another everyday, average American woman."

Do I detect a note of sarcasm?

Anonymous said...

A story like that hurts. Is there a way to prevent it by taking an older brother role? My sister will turn out ok because Im real with her, I tell her everything. She rejects the type of friends your dancer took for herself. I am sure the same have been done for the russian by a loyal friend in the states.

Will Brown said...

Apparently, he enjoyed beating the crap out of her while having sex, thus scarring her psychologically from sex for the rest of her life.

Taking into account your observation regarding her bodily condition, I fixed it for you.

Granted, one may wish to choose not to spend the likely significant amount of time helping her to overcome and recover from the damage inflicted; life is a series of choices after all. To my very limited understanding of it, I don't think game precludes making such a commitment choice though, only provides a context within which to consider the options available.

As originally written, the implication is that you are the one being judged (by fellow men not present presumably), not the decision she presents for you to decide. And, I could be completely full of shit (it wouldn't be the first time), but that's my $.02 opinion.

Captain Capitalism said...

INSTALANCHE!!!!

MULTIBALL!!!!!!!

Actually, where were the hits? I didn't see anything on my stat counter.

Anonymous said...

I don't think the birthday situation was handled well. Yelling and making her feel guilty for not keeping her word was absolutely the right thing to do.
But... when a person you're yelling at gives in, the smart person ceases hostilities and you... didn't.

Guilting her into a fun evening with people who care about her as a person could have made a big diference. Everybody does stupid things sometimes, real friends, who are in a better mental apsce, don't hold it against them.

But guilting her into a shitty unpleasant evening with a bunch of people treating her like crap and blaming her for the night not being better?

No wonder she found the nonjudgemental and enabling skanks she'd been hanging out with seem like a better alternative than your crowd. Who wouldn't?

But if she's not pretty anymore, who cares about character?

heresolong said...

To add to Cliffarroyo's comment, she made stupid choices and you lost a friend but that's no reason to treat her like s**t. I would think that celebrating her birthday and then not calling her anymore would have been a better play, then let it go.

On another note, you sound bitter and I don't know why. You are still harboring a grievance and it isn't good for you.

There. Free personal advice. :)

beta_plus said...

If I had not read you mentioning the Russian dancer before, I would have sworn this was a guest post from Roosh.

Captain Capitalism said...

Hey, I stick with what i did. If more men stood up and lectured women and held them to a standard instead of just sheepishly and silently drifting away, then we wouldn't have these problems.

And damn right I was pissed. So should be every other guy that has to deal with flakes and the prcious seconds of our finite lives they cost us.

You think that girl is EVER going to stand people up for a party again?

Dreamer said...

You think that girl is EVER going to stand people up for a party again?

I would have to say likely. If she really learned from the experience, then it would have been a happier ending. She wouldn't be stuck with her bad habits and encircled with equally crappy friends.

Most ideally is she would have realized the damage to friends that (seems) to matter and find a way to mend it. Instead, 5 years later, it seems she continued down the same path with her demeanor and social life. That would imply her flaking habits did not change.

Perhaps cliffarroyo is right that guilting back and showing her a good time would show which group of friends she should go with. Or perhaps she would have just see that she can abuse more and still enjoy such company (though, one must mention, it seems many who went that way got the latter - the former seems to work on mostly Save-by-the-Bell TV shows than real life).

There's no way to know. What we do know is she is at the bad ending at this point and us to take as a lesson. I can only hope that my story would be better - as well for my current friends.

Captain Capitalism said...

I'll agree as evidenced by her circle she didn't learn and I am perhaps too optimistic to assume my one confrontation did something. But that's probably because I'm the only guy who wouldn't let her behavior pass.

Imgaine this instead.

Instead of 1 in a 100 times a man stands up to a woman and calls her on her bullshit (and we expect her to learn) what if it was 99 in 100 times men stood up to a woman's bullshit?

I know that's never going to happen, but my point is it's not shocking she didn't learn.

Paul, Dammit! said...

Gotta go with the Capt. on this one-ultimately it was his sweat equity in planning, his network that made accommodations and she didn't do her part- while you can't lay the blame entirely on her for failing to do her part in a covert contract, you can avoid wasting your time on someone who doesn't want to spend it with you.

I live in fear of my wife becoming overly Americanized. The best buffer I've found as an American husband is to emphasize the value I place in the way she chooses to live her life and the standards she holds herself to... I try to remember that when she makes me completly nuts.

Old Glory said...

I see this chain of events all the time in DC. Since we have large international organizations like the World Bank, IMF, IDB, various embassies, etc. Every year there's an influx of new, foreign women that come into my social circle and, literally, within a matter of 3-4 months, they go from nice, sweet, feminine women to fully Americanized women -- as you perfectly described.

It's a shame, really.

Just Asking said...

Did you see her feet?

I been told female ballet dancers have horrible feet/toes from all that tippy-toey stuff?

Unknown said...

This is the reason why mail order brides are a dead end. You are just running away from the problem. You bring a woman over here, she gets Americanized, and then what? You've just produced another entitled North American female.

The Captain did the right thing by confronting the problem head on. Maybe these women will change, maybe not, but one thing's for sure - they'll know some of us are willing to call them on their B.S.

Unknown said...


I think it was very thoughtful and kind of you to take her under your wing. The surprise party and homemade book was also very thoughtful.

But did she really deserve that when she was already being flaky on you and your crew? She was already slowly growing away from you. Not sure a surprise party was smart in that case. You should have let her know that you were throwing a big and important party in her honor. But who knows, she still may have flaked.

I wonder if you two had ended up together, and she maybe had your child, and ended up with wrinkly skin and a few extra pounds- would you still think that time took revenge on her?

Do you think her being bought for marriage and then abused was some kind of karmic revenge on her for past behavior in Russia (or bad character trait, even though you state that she didn't have any bad character traits when you first met her)?

Also, do you think that maybe the abuse had anything to do with her running with the club rats, being a flake on you or 5 years later, dressing unappealingly and gaining weight and wrinkles?

Reluctant Paladin said...

The end of this post kind of reads like there was some revenge or justice to be had, and maybe there was a sort of justice for behavior.

Still, this isn't a happy story. This is a modern day tragedy.

Reluctant Paladin said...

The end of this post kind of reads like there was some revenge or justice to be had, and maybe there was a sort of justice for behavior.

Still, this isn't a happy story. This is a modern day tragedy.