enid's just read carpetblogger's great post on the boomtown similarity between baku and deadwood. in particular she says "But pretty much the biggest parallel between Baku and Deadwood is the social life. Other than drinkin' and whorin' there's not a lot to do in either place. Baku has all kinds of bars, as long as they are English, Irish, and Scottish, and any local woman out past 9 p.m. is likely to be a whore. Cognoscenti know that, with startling few exceptions, any bar that requires a descent of more than five steps doubles as a bordello."
this reminded enid of one of the man's early molvanian experiences.
it was january, the snow was falling and he and three colleagues were looking for a place to eat lunch. "this'll do," said his boss, hoohah, and bundled them all down a flight of steps and into the foyer of a restaurant.
"a table for four," hoohah demanded in english.
"four please," said the man, in russlish.
the staff continued to ignore them.
hoohah went up to demand a little attention (he's like that). the man took in his surroundings. the decor was plush and red. there was a cash machine. it looked like the waiting area of a curry house in suburban england - but big... very big. all the waitresses were wearing low cut, clingy red dresses and thigh boots. come to that, so were the “guests” lounging on the low seating at the edges of the room.
hoohah had failed to get the attention he needed, and was pushing through into the next room. "come on guys," he said. "if we sit down, they'll realise we just want some soup and a coffee."
the next room had no tables. it was just a corridor with rather too many doors off it.
“guys, we’re in a brothel,” the man said.
but hoohah was still trying to make his point to the increasingly confused madam. english had failed, so he fell back on sign language. pointing to his open mouth, he made a sucking noise like a very impolite person drinking soup.