Remember Dovaltov? A young girl from his circle was once asked: “What do you prefer more, vodka or pure alcohol?” “I don’t know,” honestly replied the delicate and tender young lady. “Both taste so good!” Today’s girls are much more particular. You’re unlikely to tempt them even with diluted medical alcohol. You see, they now have their own tastes. One has to adapt…
“Only champagne!”
Somewhere in a women’s romance novel she read that self-respecting girls drink exclusively this aristocratic beverage. Vaguely before her eyes appear footmen in livery, a mansion in Beverly Hills, trimmed lawns, an illuminated swimming pool, gentlemen in tuxedos, ladies in diamonds, deep décolletage… Of course, she has no idea that domestic yeast champagne costs far less. And if she suddenly clarifies that she prefers “Dom Pérignon,” it’s best to suddenly, like Winnie the Pooh, slap yourself on the forehead and remember an urgent matter. Then promptly apologize and take your leave. This beauty is out of your league. And even if she were within your means, she wouldn’t be worth it.
“Anything but champagne!”
A good sign. She doesn’t read women’s romance novels, or if she does, she doesn’t treat them as life manuals. She knows that cheap champagne has nothing in common with this truly noble drink, and she doesn’t want to put you in a difficult financial position by ordering French brut. She emphasizes the democratic nature of her tastes, which suggests she’s easygoing and approachable. Most likely, you’ll have an easy and enjoyable time with her.
Be a gentleman—offer her a genuinely fine French wine. It’s not cheap, but for such a girl, it’s worth it.
“Whatever you’re having, darling!”
Such compliance is alarming. Politely but firmly ask her to show some independence in deciding this matter. And immediately make it clear that if she’s looking for a good “daddy,” you’re utterly unsuitable for that role due to your inherent frivolity and inability to engage in long-term serious relationships.
“I’d like some beer”
An unspoiled girl. Not accustomed to restaurants. Don’t order her a draft Guinness. A glass of draft “Klinское” is quite sufficient. During conversation, avoid complex foreign words. Steer clear of refined phrases like “I believe that” or “don’t trouble yourself, dear.” Instead of “good,” use the youth synonym “cool,” instead of “funny,” say “awesome.” Retell her the latest jokes you read online at work today. If she laughs, parroting “Wow, so awesome!” then everything’s fine—you’re on the right track.
“Vodka!”
A serious statement. Here, several scenarios are possible. Everything depends on how serious the aforementioned statement actually is. Delicate Dovaltov-style girls, unable to make a decisive choice between vodka and pure alcohol due to the extraordinary organoleptic properties of these wonderful drinks, later turned into hardened and unattractive bohemian ladies. They downed vodka by the glass, smoked foul-smelling cigarettes, and clacked their teeth. And only similar degenerate elements of an anarchic type would respond to their fiery invitation: “Well, who else wants some commissar’s body?”
Meeting such a specimen today is unlikely. But still not impossible. Order vodka. And if your companion grabs the decanter herself and pours a full glass—before the terrified waitress has time to bring mineral water—you’re guaranteed a lively evening. The main thing is that this entire episode should be limited to just one night. However, most likely, your girl isn’t like that. She simply considers herself very modern and secretly sympathizes with feminists.
“Vodka with orange juice”
Don’t tell her that her favorite drink is crudely called a “screwdriver.” She might get offended. But the “screwdriver” works flawlessly. As she drinks this simple cocktail, your appearance in her eyes will gradually acquire more and more attractive features and even begin to glow with a romantic halo. The fact that this is due to an alcoholic haze will only become clear in the morning, when she wakes up in your bed with a pounding head. Still, no particular emotional distress is expected. “Screwdriver” girls are wonderful, sweet girls with easygoing personalities. They love cheerful company. Make such a girl laugh until she collapses once, and she’s yours. And it’s not hard to do because there are simply no more humorous and carefree creatures in the world.
“As an aperitif, I’d prefer a dry martini, then a glass of Chablis Grand Cru, preferably 1986, and for dessert, 50 grams of Martell Noblige”
Whoa! Before you stands, apparently, a bird of high flight. How on earth did she end up with you, a mere mortal? Well, whatever the case, only one thing remains: don’t land face-first in the mud and immediately banish plebeian thoughts about three hundred grams of vodka from your mind. When choosing your wine, turn to your wise companion for advice. Casually let slip: “It’s a pity the menu doesn’t have rabbit in onion sauce. Chablis Grand Cru with rabbit—that’s something breathtaking!” Conduct the conversation with dignity, increasingly about lofty matters—noble wines, refined manners, contemporary art. “By the way, don’t you think all 20th-century art is deeply rooted in Freud?” And there—your desired transition to a conversation about sex.
“Milkshake”
A worrying symptom. First of all, carefully clarify how old your companion actually is. Most likely, she’ll cheerfully say, “Eighteen,” but then, letting her guard down, tell an interesting story about how yesterday in gym class they played “football” with the boys in her class, and top student Petya ripped his pants. How quickly children grow up! Yet a relationship with a minor is certainly not among your intentions. Feed her a milkshake, treat her to pastries, and sternly remind her that it’s already late and she hasn’t studied biology yet. Before parting, advise her not to copy next math test from Petya, but to think with her own head.
“Still mineral water”
Generally speaking, in any other situation, such an answer would mean only one thing: “Go to hell!” But why did she come with you to the restaurant at all? So, not everything is hopeless. Perhaps you’re dealing with a pathologically shy girl. She’ll study the menu carefully, focusing only on the right column with prices. After long torments, clearly reflected on her sorrowful face, she’ll settle on cabbage salad, some vegetable stew, and two slices of bread. Most likely, this girl’s character is as bland as her meal. Can you imagine what moral fortress you’d have to dismantle? Is it worth it? Quite another matter if the same order comes, but without the two slices of bread. This means your companion is making superhuman efforts to lose a few extra kilograms and has already been on a harsh diet for two days. Be tactful. Don’t tempt her with those miserable bread slices (“flour!”). Ultimately, a hungry gleam in the eyes only enhances uninhibited sex. But if your companion, restricting herself to plain water, indulges in everything else to the fullest, don’t be surprised when she, giving you a sly wink, starts rolling a joint under the table. Choking on your food? Trivial! Pour another shot of vodka, and it’ll pass. After all, everyone relaxes in their own way. The main thing is that she doesn’t pull from her bag a non-sterile syringe with some murky filth. If that does happen, run away as fast as you can, without any explanations or apologies, before the police take you in.
“And what would you advise me?”
Attention! This is a trial balloon. She shifts responsibility onto you not because you hold great authority, but to clarify your intentions and assess the potential of this new acquaintance. (There will be plenty of such trial balloons throughout your conversation, so don’t let your guard down.) You should not immediately urge her to drink vodka or a “screwdriver.” That would be alarming. “He wants to get me drunk; I’m just a one-night stand for him!”—such dangerous thoughts must under no circumstances arise in her pretty little head. Instead, suggest a quality dry wine. Display knowledge of grape varieties and recent vintages. Impressed by your sophistication and gallantry, she will develop complete trust in you. And before she realizes it, she’ll switch on her own to that same ordinary “screwdriver.” What follows is obvious.
“A splash of martini and mostly juice”
She is afraid you’ll get her drunk. In general, she believes decent girls don’t drink. In principle, decent girls don’t go to restaurants with barely acquainted young men. Yet here she is, having gone—and now suffering greatly. And she’s constantly worried. What if acquaintances see her, or, heaven forbid, her parents?
Everything depends on how far she’s willing to proceed down this moral decline. After all, even the “nicest girls” occasionally turn into “bad ones,” at least once in their lives. If this is that moment, you’re in luck. The amount of juice in her cocktail will steadily decrease, while the martini correspondingly increases. Gradually, she’ll forget her pretensions and transform from a porcelain doll into a normal, living girl. But if fear prevails, you’ll face a gloomy evening of empty, insincere conversation.
Beware of sudden moves: she’s ready to scream “rape!” at any second.
