The squat, redheaded woman named Irina offers to get me a drink, but I decline. She laughs, then straps on her shoes, gets up, and wraps herself around a metal pole.
...
WAIT, WHAT AM I DOING IN A RUSSIAN HOSTESS CLUB?!


Long story short, on Wednesday night I made friends with a crazy Russian girl at the usual bar, and when 2:30 or so rolled around, she dragged me across the street to her place of employment. I got a couple free drinks (vodka), made friends with some ho's (miserable-looking), and had compliments showered on me by some lecherous Japanese men ("customers").

Around closing time, drunk Irina decided that she would try to give me her shoes - some scary pleather-wrapped-around-the-calf, metal spike-heeled numbers. This is how the conversation went (we were speaking Japanese to each other because her English was crap):

Irina: "Here."
Me: "Huh?"
Irina: "You should keep these."
Me: "Me? Why?"
Irina: "I think you like them."
Me: "But they're too small, and I can't walk in them."
Irina: *shrugs* "Well, you can have them. I think you like them."

There may have been some sort of larger, symbolic exchange happening here. I wasn't sure. But I didn't take the shoes.


Never a dull moment.