LOCAL

By Deidre Dare

Note to self: Don't EVER go get lovely little injections in your face three days before a date with a German willing to spend 100,000 euros just to meet you! I suggest everyone else follow this advice as well, actually, should the occasion arise.

But, alas, it was with what Dr. Berzin described as "welting" and I described as "the chipmunk effect" that I left New York for Munich to meet Chris G. for the big dinner, en route back home to Moscow.

I arrived the morning of the dinner and promptly arranged for a bodyguard to accompany me that evening, in case Chris was a freak with a razor blade, intent on disfiguring me for life and leaving me in a permanent chipmunk condition.

"Make sure he's armed," I pointedly instructed the concierge, who only raised his eyebrows and nodded in a knowing manner, as if hotel guests often arrive at 7:00 in the morning needing armed guards. Security costs 40 euros an hour in Munich, if you want to know - and the gun's thrown in for free.

I sent Chris an e-mail telling him I'd meet him at the hotel bar at 7:30 p.m. and promptly went to sleep. When I woke up a few hours later, I began the task of de-chipmunking with contour blush and various cleverly placed highlighter smudges. In dark lighting, I would pass for a non-rodent, I decided, pleased.

At 6:30 I met with the bodyguard, a friendly German named Flo, who had been in the Army most his life. He'd done "recon" on the bar and the suggested dinner venue and we decided on fancy-dancy code words for "danger" and "no danger" ("Banana" and "Apple").

Then, I suddenly found myself very, very nervous. In a Dashaesque moment, I downed a Vicodin I'd purloined from my sister and a double gin and tonic. After that, I felt much, much better and it was in a state of medicated calm that I went down to the bar, wearing the now famous sheer blue top.

Nodding to Flo who sat across the room, I took a seat at the bar and proceeded to sit there for exactly 1 1/2 hours and four more G&Ts until I determined that, yes, I was being stood up.

At which point, I proceeded to sway outside for a cigarette, only to be followed by Flo who did not seem to understand that all danger had passed about an hour before.

My dreams of a vacation in the Maldives, financed by Chris, melted away as I stood on the quaint street with Flo watching me carefully at 40 (now crucial) euros an hour.

When I returned to the bar I discovered that a lunatic had taken my seat and made a swastika out of my drink stirrers. It remains unresolved between Flo and I whether this lunatic was MY lunatic or not, but a lunatic he was. Unable to speak English and about my age, this creature did not admit to being Chris G. but DID admit, quite suddenly upon my return, to being madly in love with me. Then, he ordered a beer.

"I would die for a kiss," he beseeched maniacally, dropping to his knees, grabbing my hand and keeping it.

Hearing that, I turned to Flo, who was translating for us, and said the only thing a girl can say in such a situation: "Banana".

At which point, Flo got my hand back for me and took me back to my room.

"Well, at least you learned a valuable lesson," a friend said to me the next morning when I filled her in on the details.

"What might that be, exactly?" I asked.

Silence. Then, giving up: "God knows..."

The question is: was I stood up or not? I think I wasn't. Flo won't commit either way.

The last time I thought I was stood up was the night I fell in love with the King of Spades. He was waiting for me at Pushkin and I was waiting for him at Turandot. Our BlackBerrys had gone out and we each waited two hours for the other until we both stormed out of our respective restaurants and ran into each other.

We both thought the other had been playing power games, we discovered later that evening over champagne at Starlite...

On the other hand, maybe Chris G. took one look at me in all my chipmunk glory and ran as fast as he could. We'll never know.

I'm out $3,000 for this adventure, but I'll tell you what, I DID learn a valuable lesson from this experience: Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

So, I'll shrug it off and do up a budget.

xxoo

DD

Deidre Dare's novel "Expat" can be read online at: www.deidredare.com