Poosy Paradise by Roosh V

Author:Roosh V
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romania, roosh, rooshv, roosh v, romanian girls

VI. The Burning

I had an evening date with Doina scheduled at 8pm. I left the house exactly 30 minutes before 8, so that I could complete one lesson in Russian, which I had recently started studying again. I walked in the center of town with one of my earbuds in, muttering Russian phrases under my breath. Fifteen minutes into the lesson, Doina popped up right beside me. I turned off my mp3 player and so began the date, slightly early.

We didn’t go more than thirty steps before her phone rang. I snuck a peak at the screen and it said “Mama.” She rejected the call and we talked about our weekends.

I got a better look at her once we settled in the café. Her hair was black and wavy, partially covering her chipmunk cheeks, and she wore braces to correct an overbite. Her eyes were large, brown, and so spherical that I examined them from the side to see if they were perfect balls. If she resembled an animal it would be a rabbit. I checked her nails and they were unpainted but long. She was 20 but looked maybe 15.

“I never come to places like this,” she said. We were in an upscale café that played house music just a few decibels too loud, forcing you to lean in to hear what your date was saying. It was considered expensive, since espressos were $2.25 instead of the more proletariat $1.50. The other customers weren’t hurting for money. Most had smartphones that were better than mine, and even Doina’s was better.

“What type of places do you go to?” I asked.

“I don’t really go out.”

“You don’t go to clubs?”

“I’ve only been once. I don’t like it, I rather read a book.” Her ability to play the game must be low. Her notch count must be low. She must also be practical. She won’t do things to be “sexy.” I looked down at her shoes and there was just a one-inch heel.

“You don’t wear high heels, do you?” I asked.

“Not really. I have to walk fast, because I’m always late for something, and so with heels it’s hard to do this. I know it makes a girl’s legs look more sexy, but I don’t usually wear them.”

It took a while for the waitress to ask what we wanted. “Do you want a glass of wine or a beer?” I asked. I knew her response before she said it.

“I don’t drink.”

She got a latte and I went with an espresso. I added just a bit of sugar to my drink and took a sip to evaluate the taste. I noticed bold chocolate notes, something that I hadn’t experienced in an espresso before, and made a mental note to come back in the future.

Every one of my first dates has a moment where I’m prompted to tell my life story. In my early 20’s there wasn’t much to it—just a brief description of what I majored in at college and what my corporate job entailed, but now the story was getting long.

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