A lot of people will tell you that Latvian women are the most beautiful women in the world. And to be fair, they’re probably not too far wrong. Sure, a smile every now and then wouldn’t go astray, but there are some seriously stunning women in this country. In every one of my classes, there are at least two or three women that should be on the cover of a fashion magazine. The one question I continually ask myself (apart from why on earth did I move here) is where are the beautiful men? You’re far more likely to be hit on the head by a falling icicle than to see one roaming the streets*.
If all of these goddesses are married (and most of them are), are they really married to the trolls I see shambling through the streets of Riga every day? Perhaps. However, having lived here for a while, I’ve started formulating a new theory. Maybe, just maybe, there is a secret stash of beautiful Latvian men chained to their beautiful women’s kitchen radiators. This wouldn’t surprise me too much as Latvian women are – how to put this delicately – nuts when it comes to their men.
On more than one occasion, I’ve been walking to work when a couple approaches, arm in arm, in the opposite direction. Suddenly, I feel the hair stand up on the back of my neck and a chill go down my spine. I notice that she now has the hapless sod in a choke-hold and realise I’m getting the ‘Latvian-Girl-Death-Stare’ – the most terrifying of all the Latvian looks. I wonder what my mistake was. Then it hits me. I looked at her man.
Even though what I’m actually thinking is ‘Wow, there’s a mullet and a half’, she thinks I’m thinking ‘Wow, if I don’t get me some of that mullet-man, I might just die’. Without risking a second look to see if the poor guy is still breathing, I scuttle off, thankful that at least I still am.
One night, I was leaving my local bar with a male friend of mine. We had crossed a street and were walking past a grassy area between some blocks of flats. Suddenly, there was a rustle in one of the bushes. His girlfriend leapt out, slapped him across the face and ran off into the night.
In a situation like this, a few questions come to mind:
1. She hadn’t been in the bar so how did she know we were there and would end up leaving at the same time?
2. How did she know that we would be walking along that particular route?
3. How long had she been hiding in that bush?
4. How long would she have continued to hide in that bush if we hadn’t walked past?
5. Does she just pick a random bush every night and hide behind it on the off chance that he will walk past with a girl?
But before I could get to these questions, I asked him if he was going to go after her as she seemed upset. (What I meant was unhinged.) His response was a Latvian shrug and a ‘Nah, it’s normal’. Is it? Is it???
So, based on this evidence, I return to my ‘kitchen radiator’ theory. While they’re buying the bridge padlock for their wedding day, is it really so unreasonable to suppose that the bride might buy a couple of extra padlocks for the rest of the marriage?
*This may not be statistically accurate.