"What's the red soup stuff?" I asked, pointing at it with my fork. I had long since given up sitting on my butt, and opted for sitting on my knees and leaning against the table instead. I had to move all the dishes in front of me towards Ivan, but that was okay because he deserved it.
"That's Borscht." He said, swatting my fork away from the pot. "It's made with red beets. That's why it is red."
"Oh… That sounds... Gross. What's the Jello stuff?" The dirty look he gave me was priceless. He leaned over and swatted my fork away from the jello too.
"It is Kholodets. Is meat set in aspic. It is traditon-"
"Ew, that sounds gross too. These looks like pickles." I pointed above the meat jelly to the cucumbers.
"They are pickles! Stop pointing at stuff with your fork!"
"Aw, but it makes you so angry. It's cute to look at you with your red face and all." I mocked him, gesturing to the whole of his face with my hand.
"What's the red stuff in the jar?" I asked before he could lean over and smack me a good one. I didn't trust that he kept promises well, especially ones sealed with a slobbery kiss on the cheek.
"Fermented cabbage, you can eat it-"
"Oh, like sauerkraut? Do you have hot dogs or something?"
"Well, there are sassages, but typical-"
"Sausages are okay too, but I never really ate them with sauerkraut."
"No, you eat the cabbaged and drink the vodka!"
"Vodka? I can't drink vodka!"
"Legally no, but it's not like theres anyone up here to stop you."
"Except you."
"Well I won't, so you will drink it. If you want."
"I guess I could give it a try later… My mom only let me taste champagne once at new years so this'll be cool! Oh! Do we have skittles? We could make skittles vodka! That would be even better!."
"Only champagne on new years? Vodka is a must for new years! That's what the soft salads are for! Vodka will be too much for you at first, even if it was degraded it with skittles, so we will work you up. I think you will like Kavs. You seem to like sweet things." He seemed genuinely excited about me drinking with him, like it was his favorite spot and he wanted to play it with me, and it even seemed he was already planning for new years. I was not going to stay that long.
"Soft salads? What do you mean? What kind of drink is Kavs anyways?"
"Oh, here." He said, picking up a large glass bowl with that appeared to be potato salad chopped up really small. "This is Olivye salad. It is Russian potato salad. It is said that it makes good pillow for drunk people who fall asleep in it. Also, Kavs is a beer, if you will, that is very low in alcohol and is flavored with berries and sometimes honey. You will like it, it is basicly sweet juice."
"Damn, you guys party hard! Falling asleep in potato salad! And beer juice sounds gross too." At first I was thinking that insulting russian food would be hard, but I was finding it easy, and that scared me because I would have to eat it until I left!
He chuckled at this, his smile reaching his eyes. I took the offered bowl and placed it next to me. There was no way in hell that I was going to pass up potato salad when the only other thing I could eat was meat jello and fermented cabbage.
"What's all the other stuff?" I asked, spooning the tiny goop onto my plate.
"This is selyodka. It is marinated Herring. This is beef plof. It is, uh, rice and beef. This over here is black bread. There is the cake that you wanted. This is salo. It is sliced bacon fat and you eat it raw on the bread. You eat many things on bread. Also, pickled mushrooms, pickled tomatoes, boiled eggs , Mayonnaise, sour cream, Okroshka, Solyanka, Kompot, Herring Under Fur Coat, Varenyky stuffed with fruits, and I also have caviar if you would like."
"Caviar? Raw bacon? What?"
"Ah," Ivan said, getting up and walking over to the floor fridge. "There are so many things for you to try! I can teach you all about them too. You will learn to like them." He opened it and rummaged through as I continued to talk.
"Yea, but… Raw bacon? That just screams worms and disease. I think I'd rather eat your meat jello than let worms eat my brain, thank-you-very-much. And what in the world is Herring Under Fur coat?"
"Well, it's a layered salad. Herring on the bottom, roasted vegetables next, and then the top is covered in shredded baked beet and mayonnaise. It's a favorite at almost every party table in Russia. You will grow to like it."
"Wait!" I leaned over the table and pointed to a cake covered in red frosting and red shredded coconut. "You're trying to tell me that this cake is not actually a cake? It's red-fish-mayo-veggie mound?"
"Yes… That's not a cake. You already have a cake. Typically for a Russian birthday we have a pie. You don't need another cake. You already have one."
"Wow. It's so fitting that the cake is a lie in Russia! I mean, how could there ever be a more fitting environment for a lie based cake? Geez!" I leaned back in my chair, making sure to run my hands through my hair like my mind had just exploded.
"Uh… Yes. There is no other cake. The Varenyky is sweet though, and there is some Kissel in the fridge if you want that. Other than that it's just savory food. The kompot is a sweet drink though. I thought you would like that." He shut the fridge then took out a small box from a draw near the sink, then he walked over to me and placed four jars of caviar on the table. "We will eat this first. It is expensive and very good. I think you will like it. Have you had caviar before.?"
"Uh… Yea. On a cruise once. I didn't really like it. I can't get over the fact that it's hundreds of fish eggs. I can eat chicken eggs all day every day… But fish eggs are... Different."
He pulled up a chair and sat down facing me. "This is very expensive sturgeon caviar. Russia is famous for it. I also have this significantly cheaper Salmon caviar that you might have tried. What would you like to eat first?"
"Um… None… Of them. Don't you have to eat all of it once you open it? I don't know. I think I'm fine with all this other… Food."
Ivan looked a little disappointed at this. "Are you sure you don't want to try them? It grows on you."
"Why would I want to eat fish eggs when I have all of this…" I looked around at all the 'food' Ivan pointed out earlier. "When I have three kinds of soup, fake cake, real cake, weird fish, weird bread, stir fried beef, dumpling things with fruit, juice, and meat jello! And theres also that stuff in your fridge… Uh.. Kr- Kr-... Kriss-kross."
"You mean Kissel? It's more like a fruit soup than a food. Another sweet."
"See? Why do we need to eat the fish eggs now when we have all of this and fruit soup. Besides, if we open and try all of those then we will have to eat them all, and this f-f-feast will all go to waits. Think of the meat jello's feelings. And we can't forget the metric fuck ton of pickled things can we? Can't forget the pickles, they have feelings too." I reached over and grabbed a cucumber and took a bite for good measure, just to show him what I was getting at. To bad it was delicious.
"Look," I said while waving the bitten pickle at him. "We have food for days. It's about three metric fucktons of food, and we can eat your expensive fish eggs when we have the stomach capacity for it!" Besides, I need to weasle myself into your head, and I can't do that when I'm throwing up fish larva. "So… What do you want to eat first? We have a lot to choose from… How about…" I looked around the table while I took another bit of my pickle. "How about you sing me happy birthday in Russian?"
"Nyet." He said instantly.
"Oh come on! I'll do something for you!"
"Like what?" He looked a little sheepish… And excited.
"Oh, I don't know… What do you want me to do? Give you another kiss on the cheek? Feed you? Come on, tell me!"
He face got a little red with anger. "You are teasing me!"
"Aw, I am, but that's because you're so cute! Just think about it… You sing me a little song, and I gave you a little something-something in return. I'm already forced to be your servant, whats a little reward? It's not like you're getting nothing out of it! Come on."
"It's a song from an old cartoon. You won't like it!"
"What do you mean I won't like it!? I love cartoons! And" I leaned forward and looked up at Ivan through my eyelashes. "Do you have any idea what hearing another language does to me? Especially when someone as pretty, strong, and… Educated as you Sings to little 'ol me? I'm sure you can guess though." I pressed the pickle to my lips and made a show of putting it into my mouth.
I saw him swallow, hard, and his eyes lingered on my lips for longer than was necessary. I tried not to choke as I bit down on the fermented plant, makeing a satisfying 'crunch' noise and Ivan visibly jumped.
You don't fool me ya' nasty. I know where your mind is!
"I-I guess I could sing… A little bit… If you promise to do something for me!"
"Sure hun! What is it?"
He leaned in close and was suddenly very serious. His intense gaze met mine as he leaned in even closer. I moved back a little instinctively, shocked and a little scared, but stopped moving when I realised that I could get what I wanted out of him by tricking him into thinking he wanted the same things I wanted. I needed to be cool about it. I need to be… Smooth.
"Can you see yourself reflected in my eyes the way I can see myself reflected in yours?" It's a good thing he doesn't wear panties because they would have dropped.
"Yes." He said, and then ripped the pickle from my hand. "And you are not allowed to eat pickles any more." Then he backed away and took a bite.
"W-what?"
"Now I will sing to you the Russian birthday song! You can not say anything about it, or I will make you eat the caviar!"
"Ew! No! Fine! Fine! I won't make fun of you! Just sing to me!"
"Okay… Just remember it is from old childrens show…."
"It's okay, it's not like I can understand it. I just want you to sing to me!"
"Okay then…" He cleared his voice and his face got red, but he started singing anyway. It seemed like he looked at everything but me during the song too.
"Пусть бегут неуклюже
Пешеходы по лужам,
А вода — по асфальту рекой.
И не ясно прохожим
В этот день непогожий,
Почему я веселый такой.
Припев:
Я играю на гармошке
У прохожих на виду...
К сожаленью, день рожденья
Только раз в году.
Прилетит вдруг волшебник
В голубом вертолете
И бесплатно покажет кино.
С днем рожденья поздравит
И, наверно, оставит
Мне в подарок пятьсот «эскимо».
Припев
Я играю на гармошке
У прохожих на виду...
К сожаленью, день рожденья
Только раз в году."
The song was really mellow and sweet, and flowed together nicely.
"Your voice is really nice! I don't understand what you were so embarrassed about! You could sing to me like that all day, every day and you would never hear a complaint from me!"
"It is just that I… Have not sung to anyone for many years…"
"Aw, that's too bad!"
"Yes. It is..."
"So what do I have to do now?" I asked not, sure if the condition was never eating pickles again, or if never eating pickles again was a side command that I had to follow as well as something else.
"Ah… You can…" Ivan's face got very red. "You can…" He looked around the room frantically and picked up a salt shaker. "Here!" He said handing it off to me.
"What's this for?" I asked, not bothering to mask my amusement at Ivan's embarrassment.
He pointed at it and opened his mouth to say something, but after a moment he ripped it from my hand and slammed it back on the table. I openly smiled at him, and watched the red in his cheeks drain.
"Do you want to open your presents?" He asked, all composure back instantly.
"Yes! Yes I want to open my presents!"
He pointed behind me, and there, nestled behind the counter, was a small pile of presents. "Oh yea! That's even more than I normally get!"
"You can open them if, and only if, you call me master."
"Wait.. You're making me be your servant and I have to call you master?"
"Yes." He said, crossing his arms.
I really had to think about it, I mean, presents. Was it worth it? Selling my pride over a few things. I sighed and crossed my arms too, wondering if any good could come out of it. Ivan wants me to make him feel special, and I wanted Ivan to take me home and let me have the pile of wrapped goodness next to me…
The whole situation reminded me of an argument that was brought up during my English class when we read The Taming of the Shrew. Someone argued that the woman, Katerine, didn't actually change, she put on a show so that she could manipulate her husband into bending to her will. I personally thought the theory seemed a little far fetched, but now that I was in a similar situation… Maybe it was a good idea, I mean, it worked so far...
I thought back to my list of annoying things and wondered if it was really my A game. Maybe… Maybe I needed to be a little more… Manipulative? They way it was looking I had the rest of my life to experiment, so if being manipulative didn't work, I could just go back to being a prick. That settled it. I was going to pretend to be a little twinky gay boy. Really, it hurt to think about, but I took a deep breath and thought about my family.
"You confuse me so much. One moment you're pushing me down and taking my first kiss, the next minute you're a blushing stammering mess, and then a moment after that you're stern and authoritative! But, I guess if I have too..." I walked up to him slowly and gently touched his chest and shoulders. "How do you want me to say it? Do you want me to say your name too?" I stroked his shoulder a bit, then looked up into his eyes and gave him a beaming smile. He looked away, something that comes naturally when you look directly at the sun. What? I like to give 100 and 10 percent okay? Whats the point in doing something half assed?
"Maybe… You shouldn't do that… Maybe…" I felt him stiffen as he tried to pull away.
"Can I still open my presents?" I asked, trying to keep my cool.
"Yes…" His voice was deflated and lacked any sort of sternness.
That moment was the moment I knew what sort of situation I was going to have to put myself through, and If Ivan was a bear, I really didn't want to be his twink for very long.
I'm getting worse but... But I don't really care...