It's now 2022. My government had told me it is safe to come out of my 350 sq foot apartment – as long as I wear a couple of masks and am quadrupled vaccinated (which I am, of course). That means I felt safe enough to socialize in public and maybe do some dating again. After all, there is only so much Pornhub a girl can watch before certain urges get the better of her (and my vibrator was worn out).

After the COVIDsteria pandemic ended and the Great Reset had begun, much had changed in the world (and no doubt on Tinder). I was not sure how much luck I would have with men.

I also must admit - I had gained a bit of weight during the COVIDsteria lockdowns from being cooped up at home drinking wine alone and ordering Chinese takeout. Not a lot of noticeable weight as I was already on the big side… Well, let’s just say I now sport a voluptuous or matronly figure – something that fat-shaming metrosexual cosmopolitan American men tend to hate:

I was afraid if I got far enough along to meet a ~~noninflatable~~ real guy, he would make up some weird excuse to get up and leave...

Then one evening, someone whose Tinder profile picture was of a handsome burly bare-chested man riding a horse messaged me out of the blue.

His Tinder profile also said he was 100% straight, and he wanted a long-term relationship with a BIG woman.

Since this was Tinder, I was both a little skeptical (100% straight & long term relationship???) and intrigued at the same time. We got to chatting because there’s no harm in having a chat with the one ~~and only non-bisexual~~ macho Tinder guy who likes his women BIG. He then told me his name was Vlad and that he was a Russian from Russia but had recently settled in Brighton Beach.

Let me be clear: I would have blocked Vlad straight away when he told me where he was from and given what the ~~Ruskie~~ Russians are doing to Ukraine. I had already changed all my social media profile pictures to include a Ukrainian flag.

I was certainly NOT the kind of lady who chats, meets, or hooks up with the enemy on the eve of World War III and possible nuclear Armageddon. But Vlad was a real sweet-talker and told me how attractive BIG women like me are to “simple” Russian men like him. He insisted on meeting me over vodka, borscht, and pirozhkis. But I flatly told him, “Only after you withdraw from Ukraine and apologize for invading!”

“Hillary..."Vlad told me. "What difference does it make? What does Ukraine invasion have to do with me? I am just simple Russian man who likes his vodka, borscht, and pirozhkis! Besides, Ukraine war will end soon with Russia as BIG winner. Do you know how BIG and TOUGH Russian soldiers, especially their Kalashnikovs, are? They can handle long, hard and rough action in heavy terrain!” [He then sent me a link to unlock and view his private photo album on Facebook to hmmm… further emphasize his point…]

I have to admit that I was hmmm… charmed by Vlad and his… well… simple Russian directness. He was both appalling and refreshingly direct. He seemed like a Tinder guy who could be trusted to return your calls and messages. This is unlike your typical American or European metrosexual who makes promises he never intends to keep. Or talks platitudes and mumbo-jumbo out of all sides of his mouth, or just flat out lies to you (e.g. make an excuse to cut-and-run when things or you do not turn out to be what he expects).

Not to mention, Brighton Beach is only twenty minutes by subway for me, and right by Coney Island. After being cooped up for two years in a 350 sq foot apartment eating Chinese takeout, I was craving a good-sized hotdog and could use some fresh air. I could quickly meet Vlad for cross-cultural exchange purposes and get a free lunch. Then I could give him a piece of my mind about the Ukraine invasion and ditch him to head over to the boardwalk to satisfy my hotdog cravings.

He wanted to meet me at a particular Russian restaurant for a late Saturday lunch. At first, I did not want to eat at a Russian restaurant. After all, I was boycotting everything Russian in solidarity with the Ukrainian people. But Vlad explained it was the only place we could meet because every other New York restaurant was now requiring proof of Ukraine support to enter.

When I got there, Vlad turned out to be short for a man. Not Napoleon Bonaparte kind of short, but he was definitely shorter than what his Tinder profile had indicated. But I am not the sort of girl who discriminates against short men (or who turns down a free lunch or some drinks from them).

He also brought me a small gift that he explained was traditionally given when Americans visited Russia to meet with Russians. Although I do not know what purpose this particular gift served, (I guess) its the thought that counts:

We sat down at a cozy Russian restaurant. After Vlad ordered a Russian meal that he said would be “worthy of a Russian tsarina,” he asked me, “What do you know about Ukraine and Russian invasion?”

I was a little annoyed with such a condescending question. The tone was that I, an educated American woman with multiple university degrees, would know nothing about another country or current events.

I decided to give him a piece of my mind by telling him everything I knew about Ukraine and the Russian invasion:

“So, Ukraine is a country in Europe. It exists next to another country called Russia. Russia is a bigger country. Russia is a powerful country. Russia decided to invade a smaller country called Ukraine. So, basically, that’s wrong, and it goes against everything that we stand for. I mean, listen, we’re talking about the potential for war in Europe. I mean, let’s really take a moment to understand the significance of what we’re talking about. It’s been over 70 years. And through those 70 years … there has been peace and security. We are talking about the real possibility of war in Europe...”

I told him how disgusted I was with Russia and how his country has been behaving in recent years towards her neighbors...

I went on to talk about the heroic ghost of Kyiv shooting down six Russian planes... How Ukrainian soldiers on snake island had courageously told the Russian navy to F**k off before paying with their lives... How Ukrainian beauty queens had taken up arms... How the Ukrainian President was heroically fighting on the frontlines (unlike that cowardly Putin who is hiding out in some mountain lair in Siberia)... And how the Ukrainians now have the Russians surrounded and that Zelensky would soon be leading a Ukrainian Army to march on the Kremlin in Moscow...

Vlad laughed and asked me where I learned “such nonsense” as he called it...

I told him all of that was what my government and media have told me. Why would they lie to me? It was the Russian government and media who were lying...

He laughed again and said:

"In Russia, we have saying about government and media: We know they are lying, they know they are lying, they know we know they are lying, we know they know we know they are lying, but they are still lying!"

He then started to explain what was “really going on” between the Ukraine and Russia:

“When two countries love each other very much, they sometimes make littler countries. And sometimes as they get older they drift apart and then split up. This is not the fault of the countries really…”

He went on and on with his Russian propaganda and misinformation which I got tired of hearing. It was clear that Vlad and I would never be able to find common ground or agree on much.

But soon, I was onto my second bowl of borscht... And my third shot of vodka... And then brought out the first platter of pirozhkis which were absolutely delicious (I even snuck a couple into my purse when Vlad was not looking to snack on later…).

Well, to make a long story short: After a couple of more bowls of borsht, a few more platters of pirozhkis, and more vodka shots I care to remember, I went back with Vlad to his windowless single-room occupancy residence for what turned into a ~~drunken steamy sexual~~ cross-cultural encounter that lasted until morning...

I did learn a few things from my brief cross-cultural encounter with this simple (yet direct) Russian man:

Borsht is nothing to write home about, but Russian pirozhkis are far more satisfyingly addictive than American hotdogs…
Russian Kalashnikovs are not as big or tough as Russian men might boast about. But they (eventually) hit the right mark. They will survive a considerable amount of rough action in heavy terrain on the way to victory...
Unlike Americans or Europeans, simple Russian men like Vlad only want to use the front door (the easy way) rather than the backdoor when they are hmmm... making their conquests...

P.S. After our steamy encounter and despite Vlad’s promises to call me again, I never heard back from him, and my hopes for a long-term romance were dashed (I used a hammer on his so-called gift). This only goes to show you that Russian men like Vlad are no different than Americans or Europeans – full of empty broken promises and not to be trusted…

The idea behind this Tale From the Great Reset was blatantly ripped off from I had sex with an Anti-Vaxxer - This is what I learned by Karen Naratif (the alter-ego of another substacker satirist named Zac Leslie). Karen’s story is also worth reading.

For more satire like this, check out COVIDsteria: An Oral History of America’s Great Reset (Table of Contents) - a fictional satire along the lines of a Studs Terkel oral history or Max Brooks' World War Z published as a serialized book on Substack. Our other Tales From the Great Reset (links to all tales are also at the bottom of COVIDsteria’s TofC page):

And don’t forget to check out all of our ongoing meme/humor posts covering COVIDsteria, RUSSIAsteria, and whatever the next psyop they try to force upon us…

NOTE: While we are bombarded with woke propaganda buried into every story line from Hollywood to fiction literature these days, there is hardly any NON-WOKE satire (beyond the Babylon Bee etc) and/or fictional/satirical writing along the lines of George Orwell, Ayn Rand and the like. And besides, publishers won’t touch such material these days - meaning there is little monetary incentive for such writing…

Please feel free to support this endeavor any way you can with a small donation to keep me motivated and perhaps encourage others to do more non-woke fiction and satirical writing!

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