Apparently, my forehead is a work of art

Today was the honey festival. Right next to the honey festival is also a palace that was constructed for Catherine the Great. Ironically, she never lived there because when she saw it, it "wasn't to her liking". It was quite beautiful though and if *I* were Catherine the Great, I would have lived there. It's on a huge plot of land and there are winding pathways, a river, ducks, and gorgeous landscaping. Although I was miserable walking (it was extremely cold and rainy.. and I'm sick) I liked it better than the Honey Festival (Ярмарка мёда). I was hoping for some honey flavored stuff, but it was literally all honey, with the exception of two things: медовуха (a honey beer type drink) and чак чак (a honeyed cereal snack). I had both and they were good. I had no idea that honey could taste so different; it was pretty insane. But it was cool nevertheless.

After the Honey Festival, we were starving, so we went to a cafe-bar near the metro. It was smoke-filled, but we didn't care because we were starving. At the table next to us was this extremely skeezy looking drunk Russian, chain-smoking like crazy. He's just staring at us and I'm facing him, so it's hard to look away. He stares and stares and stares and then starts talking to us. We ignore him and he stops, but a little while later he starts up again. He starts saying random stuff trying to hit on us, but again, we ignore him, hoping he'll shut up. Then, he gets up and comes over to Andrew and starts telling him that his woman (Francine, who, btw, is not his woman) is a little too bossy and активная for her own good (this was after he witnessed Francine ordering a beer for Andrew). He told him he should be more manly. Then, he asked Francine to dance. Mind you, this is a cafe, not a dance hall. She's like, "Нет, я не танцую". And he's like, "But, please?" And she's like, "Fucking нет, ладно?".

Then, he turns to me and proceeds to tell me that I am very beautiful and that my forehead is especially beautiful. It's unusual, but very nice, he says. He goes on to say that I look like I should be in a painting because of my forehead (I think he was saying it looked aristocratic?). And he kept repeating himself on how my forehead was so beautiful and that it should be in a painting. Wait...

MY FOREHEAD?!??

I've never gotten a compliment on my forehead before. I've always been made fun of for it... since it's so large. But I guess now I can claim aristocratic origins. I still can't believe that guy made an Ode to my forehead in the middle of a fucking restaurant at the top of his voice. So weird...

Russia just keeps getting better and better.