Is it possible to do without a dinner in an expensive restaurant and a bouquet of roses on a truly romantic evening? What is the meaning of the word "romance" in our time?
In general, maybe I would not write about it here, but just the whole LJ is already littered with tearful stories about poor guys who have nothing to offer girls, except for tents and sunrises and sunsets. They, these sophisticated (in what place only?) Girls, are all so drawn upward to the foreign resort miracle-surreality, and for them - oops! - no five-star coastal hotels there. And offer to go to the lake. Ha. Ours, local-domestic. Or climb the rocks there. Or through the swamp. Well, how will it turn out in the campaign.
A couple of times I read such girls' posts, like about romance. I don’t even remember them anymore, everything was somehow mixed up in my head. But the meaning was the same - for the author it was "romantic" - it was to a restaurant to be taken. I just want to say - oh, how cool! - Where are the restaurants in her village from? Well this is the dream of her whole life, a campaign. And so that the flowers are loaded. It's romantic too. Ahh, the height of romance - to climb through the window. At night. Yeah. I read this from one young lady, where she described her most romantic moment in her life - as some kind of ***** from great love for her through the window. I don’t remember what floor there was in history. Some kind of mountaineering, exact. Also, I suppose, with a bunch of flowers in his teeth, his hands were busy.
Karoch, the top most romantic stories from LJ-schnitz:
- about ****** in the window;
- how some poor fellow ran out on foot through the city on a date. I don’t remember why. Either a ditch was dug across the road and the transport stopped. Or something else. But walking around the city is romantic. And when in the woods - fuuuuuu. Not at all.
- another poor fellow who sold something there he needed (the last panties, I suppose) to take the girl to the restaurant again. And then she probably did not eat for three days, she already lost weight. But it turned out very romantic. A kid without panties, but with a half-starved aunt in a pub eats lobsters. By candlelight. If only to give her pleasure. To her delicate romantic soul.
In general, this LJ here broke my whole idea of romance. I naively thought that romance is when the sun is in the palm of your hand. Or when a mountain breeze in your face. But nope, now I know - this is when there are three roses in cellophane. And feed her in the catering, certainly. And from mosquitoes in the forest, girls swell instantly to size 68. They can't go there, into the forest. There are still … maniacs. Under the bushes. They are waiting for girls. Although a maniac is not so critical. If you compare it with a manicure. And then after all, a manicure can break if the girl herself prepares a romantic dinner. And if at the stake … O_o. There is no hot water there! And this dishwasher machine.
Once I was struck down by an intelligent, clean-headed girl. She asked so bewildered, where can I get water to wash the skewer after the barbecue. And what's the catch of the question? Yes, it was on the lake. On the very shore. And wherever there is all the water is taken to wash the smoky greasy grates and skewers, mlyayaya! I didn't even understand her question at first, but then I pointed my finger at the lake. And she - “What are you! There are BACTERIA !!!"
And how until now my skewers have not died from these bacteria, I myself am surprised. But I was disappointed in that fool. Honestly. Then I even thought - oh, it's good that at least quickly. And if I went to the same restaurants with her, then it would not be immediately clear. Here, there is a benefit from rivers-lakes. There it is somehow faster to see, xy from xy.
And what I am not yet completely clear about is the girls' craving for flower bouquets. Do they girls seriously believe that bouquets prove love? And again, it always seemed to me that her actions were being proved. And not by external ostentatious manifestations. And the price for all these flowers is bullshit. Three rubles in the hayloft. If behind them there are no real cases - zero. Or even then, with these flowers, even at work, he meets her in the car in the evening, so that she does not go home on the bus in the cold, in the crush. Maybe then these flowers are not so necessary. Not all life will be a flower-candy period, someday you will suddenly have to dig potatoes together in the garden.
As for romance for the poor … Hmm. I would call it differently. Not for the poor. And for the unholy soul. And for those who love bright colors in life. What colors are there in the restaurant? - so, only black and white framed prints on the wall …
