It had previously been that any desperate American man—no matter just exactly how fat, bald, russianbrides or ugly—could journey to Moscow and get back to Topeka by having a trophy wife that is gorgeous.
But as a result of a booming Putin-era economy—and all the prosperity and gold-plated Land Rovers that include it—the days of the grateful Russian bride are fading fast
it’s 6:30 p.m., and everybody is crowded in to a gloomy, nondescript space regarding the very first flooring of Kiev’s St. Petersburg resort. Tonight’s impresario, Jack Bragg, appears frantic, in addition to perspiration is seeping through their bandanna because of the miniature Confederate flags onto it, as well as the males look edgy—they’re straightening their ties, straightening their eyebrows, looking at on their own within the mirror next to the coating check—and the interpreters, all females, are to their cellular phones or conversing with each other. Bragg, who’s not really a little guy and appears like a Hells Angel along with his sunglasses and goatee, is gesticulating extremely, and their vocals feels like a timpani.
Downstairs, into the hotel’s basement banquet hallway, are seventy Ukrainian women all dolled up and dying to be met. “Big evening,” Bragg tells their troops. “Big evening.” A number of the males check their flies; another asks their neighbor if there’s such a thing in their teeth. Bragg is describing how exactly to juggle girls. Přečtěte si více o oIt had previously been that any desperate American man—no matter just exactly how fat, bald, or ugly—could journey to Moscow and get back to Topeka by having a trophy wife that is gorgeous. …