Ahem. This is rather embarrassing, considering my grandiose exeunt from these pages, but I'm back. And, ahem, I'm rather happy to be back. Those of you familiar with my story will doubtless be asking what happened. In my last column I told you how I was on the verge of jumping into the Daugava River when I was saved, so to speak, by a certain prostitute called Mudite, or Moo, as I affectionately called her.
I then said how we were going off to the U.S.A. in search of the American dream. Ah, but as so often happens to us wayward romantics, it turned out to be a nightmare of epic proportions.
No sooner had the plane touched down than Moo's attitude toward me changed. In Riga she had been all pecks on the cheek and "I very like you." But once we were in America her eyes lit up like a neon sign.
She'd "pop out to the shops" only to come home the next day, her pockets stuffed with crumpled up money. When I asked her where it came from, she'd merely reply: "I very don't like you."
"But Moo," I pleaded. "I thought you loved me."
"Love," she laughed. "Ha ha."
And it just got worse. I quickly realized that I had been utterly had by Moo, who heartlessly used me as a mule to smuggle her into the country. She would disappear for days on end, only to show up briefly to change her clothes before going out again. She'd heap abuse on me as I stood remonstrating with her while she showered. "I very very very very don't like you," was all she'd say.
And so I gave up. I wasn't really sure whether Moo had gone back to being a curb crawler, or perhaps she had found gainful employment, to use an expression I've never really understood, but heard others use, over the course of my life, which had led me to this wretched point, and so wasn't to be trusted, to gauge the meaning of things.
And so it was with a heavy heart I returned to Riga. But I'm not at all bitter toward Moo, and I even wish her the best of luck in her zealous pursuit of the American dream. As for me, I think I'm a much better man for the experience. I intend to pursue a more fulfilling, contemplative life for a start and in a strange way I have a feeling that the coming year will be the best of my life.