www.exile.ru/2005-March-25/feature_story.html
Next One of the many advantages to living in Russia is that you can pop into a ny apteka -- and even most kiosks -- and grab yourself any of the three leading erectile-dysfunction pills, Viagra, Cialis, or Levitra. No unnec essary expensive doctor's visit, no wasted time. The only real question that concerns your flaccid consumer is, "Which pil l works best?" This issue, with spring arriving and Snapper Season just around the corne r, I decided to investigate the erectile-dysfunction pills first-hand. E veryone has heard of Viagra, and most men I know have tried it at least a few times -- usually to ensure performance in case of heavy drug or al cohol intake, or else to convince their life partner that they're still attracted to her. The easiest way to conduct this "Viagra Challenge" would be to simply pop each pill on different nights and try them out on different girls. But there would be nothing particularly revealing about getting a Viagra-ind uced erection with a hot young prostitute, or even a girlfriend for that matter. No, what this Viagra Challenge needed was something that Car & Driver put s its machines through in their consumer tests: extreme, rugged, unbeara ble conditions. And that meant only one thing: I'd have to test-drive ea ch erectile-dysfunction pill on a grotesquely aging whore. A prostitute so old and washed-up that she hasn't been able to work the Leningradskoe Shosse tochkas since right around the time that Yeltsin shelled the Whi te House. A whore so far past her expiration date that she's lucky if sh e lands a bit part in a bestiality porn, getting banged by a Great Dane named "Rex" for lunch change... In order to ensure some kind of fairness, I set a base rule: each prostit ute that I test the pill on must be 40 years old or over. She must be th e khruschyovka of the prostitution world, born into the world at a time when the Zaporozhets was considered a sporty car, and gold teeth were a sign of prestige. I needed t o put up another obstacle to the erection, to make sure it really was dy sfunctional. Therefore, on the day of each trick I decided I would pop p rescription amphetamines -- time-released Ritalins. The good thing about amphetamines is that they lower your inhibitions, making it a little ea sier to consider fucking a beat-up whore than if life was going at its s low "reality" rhythm. The bad thing - if you can call this "bad" - is th at amphetamines turn your dick into what my friends and I used to call " the walnut": a shriveled, tiny, sweaty, disfigured stump, a remnant of w hat once was, turning the bone into a tail bone. I figured if I pop a Levitra and test-drive it on, say, a haggard 45-year-old prostitute while grinding on a mild overd ose of prescription amphetamines, I'll be performing the sexual equivale nt of test-driving a 2006 Toyota Landcruiser in the Pankisi Gorge: the o nly way to know how well the product really works is to test it out in t he most extreme conditions imaginable. A Whore Too Far It's not easy to find a 40-plus prostitute in Moscow, but they're out the re on the on-line whore-to-door service sites. I popped triple the dose of time-released Ritalins, and wound up spending way too much time track ing down a total of about eight 40-plus prostitutes, including a fat 55- year-old woman whose gray and dyed-blond hair was piled atop her flabby head, and who, in the advertisement, was shoving a bright red dildo up h er grayish vagina. She had black shoulder-length hair, a kind of chiseled face, thin weari ed lips, and a not entirely awful body, judging by the doctored photo - though from my experience I guessed it was one of those barrel-like tors os with flabby breasts. I'd never fucked a prostitute for so little in Moscow - this presented a true Viagra Challenge. Masha told me by phone that she worked out of an apartment "10 to 15 minu tes from Alexeevskaya metro." She had an accent, perhaps Caucasian or so uthern Ukrainian. "Okay, so I'll make the appointment now and I'll come over at 6pm." "No, you need to call me back in one hour and make your appointment for o ne hour from that call." The old sovok rules were eve n transfered to sovok-era whores. "Call me back in one hour," she said, and hung up the phone. You'd think she'd need the business, occupying as she does the lowest rung on the prostitution ladder. I shook it off and moved on to a prostitute who called herself "Natalya V ladimirovna." I'd never seen a whore use her patronymic before - it must be for fetishists, designed to give authenticity to her age. Natalya Vl adimirovna had frosted blond hair, big red lips, nice round breasts that seemed firm from the photo of her lying on her back, and smooth legs. I n fact, she looked almost too good - and at $70 for a one-hour visit to her apartment, she better be good. She told me her address - it was actua lly nowhere near Taganka, let alone the Proletarskaya metro area. "So I have just one question, are you really 40 years old?" "I'm sorry, I meant that as a compliment," I said, taken aback. I couldn't believe it - I was fighting wi th an overaged whore, when all I wanted to do was fuck her, for no pleas ure of my own. She grumbled affirmatively, and told me to call when I reached a supermar ket near her building. I bought a Levitra pill for 450 rubles from the apteka just up the street from me. Levitra is a small orange pill - while Viagra is a larger blue pill, and Cialis is a small yellow pill. The same people who branded th e Orange/Red Rose/Tulip revolutions branded the erectile-dysfunction pil ls, and for whatever reason, it seems to work. I had read on the 'n et that Levitra's one main advantage was that it kicked in within 15 min utes, unlike Viagra, which takes at least 30 minutes, or Cialis, which s upposedly took an hour or more. I tried timing my Levitra dose as close as possible to my ETA at the whore's apartment. But timing it was impossible - her building was easily a 25 minute walk f rom the metro, in blustery cold, with almost no way of crossing the wide , busy prospekt. I really felt like shit, and I was freezing my ass off, wondering how or whether I'd ever find her goddamn building, especially since the residential buildings were hundreds of meters off the main ro ad, in darkened courtyards... In Moscow, you always forget how large a s cale you need to use when figuring distances. During my Long March, our new sales apprentice Branko called me on my mob ile to let me know that he was enjoying a free meal that was intended to be served to me, in a nice warm bar in the center of Moscow. That was when the first real wave of regret started to hit me, and I aske d myself, "What the hell am I doing? I'm trekking through a Moscow shith ole, trying to score a rank, mean old whore whom I don't want and who do esn't want me, drugged up on Levitra and Ritalin just for the amusement of my readers... " Besides, the whole joke is that I'm nearing 40 myself. Here I am, treatin g 40-year-old whores as if they're gargoyles, when in fact they're reall y my peers. I've set up a future marginally more secure than your average 50-year-old whore. I reached the appointed supermarket and called Natalya Vladimirovna on he r cell phone. I left a nice message, then a second more urgent messa ge. It was clear she had decided to blow me off, perhaps because I had o ffended her with my comment about her age, or perhaps because she simply had a change of heart and decided to watch a movie on ORT. I called onc e more to leave a really nasty message about her age, but that would hav e depressed me even more, trashing a washed up whore. When I got home, I called up three aging whores unsuccessfully before finally getting one to pick up the phone. It was Katerina, a fat-rolled 45-year-old whore with the size 8 breasts. And she hung up the phon e And that was it, my first day on the assignment. I couldn't believe what had just happened to me: in the middle of the highest-quality whore-gard en in all of Europe, I couldn't get laid by the dross, the weeds and fun gi of Moscow's whore market. I thought they'd be wailing with joy and of fering me incentives to see them - like their da...
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