Much has been written in the manosphere of the feminine nature of Eastern European women, so I thought I would share a recent run in with the Russian-born guy.

Marco and Sergio are in their mid to late 40s, and we became acquaintances when I replied to an ad for a refurbished washer dryer set. After an email and a phone call I felt the situation was on the up and up and I set up a time to have the units delivered and installed. (And my old set hauled away, including the washer stuck on extra small load for over two years! Ug. Bye bye!)

Marco is the mastermind of the pair, not good looking, not fit, but very very smart. I get the sense no matter what one needed, Marco is “the guy” who could make the connection. To be “in” with Marco clearly opens doors and makes life easier. In addition to wheeling and dealing in appliances of all sorts, this Serbian is also a real estate investor who specializes in flipping properties in multiple states.

Marco liked Dancer and I so much he returned the following day with his pretty and demure Ukrainian wife, and their three young sons. He’s obviously proud and fond of his wife, and I noticed no attitude or drama from her toward Dancer and I. She treated us as esteemed sisters, not rivals (which we are not but some women see all women as such, especially non married women, so her attitude was refreshing.)

Sergio is the looker and smooth talker of the two. From Uzbekistan initially, but proudly American now. He reminds me of Zeus and his sons, confident, flirty, and very self assured. He’s good looking and he knows it. He’s the sales guy of the two.

Sergio is married as well. Widowed once, with four children, and now a second wife who has two of her own. He proudly showed us photos of his strikingly beautiful wife and his middle daughter, proudly bragging how people confuse them as sisters (and they do look very alike!) plus photos of the whole clan. I joked soon the tribe will be much larger as grand babies arrive, (two so far) and I swear he preened!

Now don’t get me wrong, none of it was one bit inappropriate, but just as men speak of the feminine ease of Russian and Eastern European women, the men are likewise at ease with their masculinity. Marco and Sergio took the stage w Dancer and I but never did we feel oppressed or suppressed, rather it was a natural, playful, innocent, and easy banter.

I have never been completely at ease with the manosphere definition of Alphas and betas but I would say these two men are both Alpha but perhaps of different types. Marco is a financial/connection Alpha, while Sergio is more of a natural sort.

I have a feeling we will see them all again, and I look forward to observing them more.

The untamed masculine male, unapologetic, unencumbeted, at ease with his maleness. That’s what I saw with at least these two. I wonder if their women are so feminine in natural reaction to the masculine. Hard to say. But interesting to ponder.

What do you think? Please share in the comments.

Once upon a time, people got married, built a life, had children, and grew old together. It wasn’t perfect, but it mostly worked.

Then came divorce and the idea that commitment meant something like, “as long as you feel like it.”  Marriage, the way it was, became extinct.

And things were never the same again.

The end.

I was reading an article at a popular manosphere site that made the observation that  most of the happily married couples and relationships are those that formed early in life. While the author was speaking of men, it’s something I have noticed to be true for women, too.

Someone here posted a video once that illustrated the idea well. (I think it was Fuzzie?) In it the social experiment showed the most desirable and attractive people in a group tended to pair up early and first, with the rest being left with an ever diminishing quality of choice, much like a game of musical chairs.

Conventional blue pill wisdom over the past few decades has encouraged both women and men to put off “settling down.” But as many women (and men) are finding, once one is over 25, 30, or 35, or 40… the chairs diminish increasingly rapidly.

I often jokingly tell young gal pals not to wait until there are only broken chairs left. But in reality it’s not a joke — I have seen the more failed relationships, hurts, betrayals, and such people undergo, the less bright eyed and bushy tailed they can be about the “next” potential mate.

Don’t wait too long. If you have waited, get serious about your search. Or be left standing. That’s the cold, hard reality of the situation, no matter what advice the “modern” world gives.

You only have one life. Play your cards well and win. Or don’t, and don’t. I’d recommend having a plan and working it, myself. Just like the stock market, the tried and true way to win is to NOT do what everyone else is.

Let those who have ears hear.

I recently met a woman who exemplifies how it can be easy, if a gal has her head on straight.

My friend is an attractive gal, mid-50s, married 30 years, recently retired, has plenty of financial security, a husband who still adores her, and a happy life filled with travel to visit children, grandchildren, family, and friends.

The other day Dancer, my older daughter, and I were visiting with her while her hubby was fixing something at my place, and I asked her how did they meet?

She said she worked in an office job and was going to manicure school then (she was 24.) An older lady in her office invited her over to her house, under the pretense of having her nails done for practice.

When the woman got up to wash her nails, she noticed her single 29-year-old neighbor across the street, mowing his lawn. So she called out to him to come over, as she had a doll she wanted him to meet.

He waved and continued mowing, while my friend said she turned bright red from embarrassment. Soon he finished up, and the neighbor gal again called out, offering him a popsicle as she knew he liked sweets. So he walked over, and was then embarrassed himself as he thought the neighbor lady said “dog” not “doll.”

He could not take his eyes off her. After some small talk, the neighbor insisted they go see all he had done to his backyard. My friend was amazed and impressed by his immaculate lawn and his obvious care and pride in things.

My friend said she knew right then he would be her husband and he knew right then she’d be his wife. He wasn’t the guy she had pictured (tall and blonde) but his short stature and dark hair did not matter, she just knew.

They dated briefly and married soon after. They have had tough times, like all marriages, but not so tough that they don’t still obviously adore each other.

Dancer and I sat there enthralled at the tale. Then I asked, “What color was the popsicle?” My friend said red. Without my even having to say, Dancer jumped up and ran to the kitchen and returned with two red popsicles. My friend laughed, took them, and went off to meet her man for a break. I hope it was a romantic flashback!

Sometimes it works, simply and easily. And I love to see it when it does! I am glad my daughter got to hear that story.

Let those with ears hear.