To wish I was the girlfriend of a Russian oligarch?

[LoafersOrLouboutins]

Today I had to see my (now Ex) boss for the last time. He was a total power tripping wanker fairly unpleasant. The train was also delayed and I didn't get a seat because a selfish twat of a man insisted his laptop bag deserved a chair . My day was rubbish. I went for a walk around Knightsbridge/Mayfair and I saw lots of gorgeous Russian men leaving the restaurants and hotels sadly they didn't seem interested in me when I started drooling. Gorgeous women followed them too. AIBU to be totally jealous and wish I lived in Mayfair, didn't have to work and could have a man speak to me in Russian all day?

In my next life, when I'm not a size 14 with tits that sit around my waist and I'm 23 rather than 32, I just KNOW I'll be an oligarch's girlfriend.

Goes back to eating biscuits in dressing gown and picks nail varnish

I think there should be a Russian Oligarch Tradeshow at Earls Court or Olympia where they set out their stalls and brochures and stand about looking exhausted and smiley and we can drift around and tantalise them by appearing to stop but then smiling pityingly and drifiting on as they attempt to thrust a bag of bumpf at us and read our name tags without appearing to look at our tits.

"Hi! Looking for a Russian Oligarch today?" they will chirp with perky desperation.
"Hm.... maybe. How many nannies do you include in the standard girlfriend package?" I will drawl, blatantly looking over his shoulder for colleagues also shopping. I will then recognise one of you lot, cut him off mid-sentence and rush over to you to whisper and giggle about who we have seen while they all look uncomfortably at us from their horrible little stalls.

Given my age i,ve more chance of bagging a Sergei from the corner kebab shop complete with slightly greying white muscle vest, an abundance of body hair and a comb over. So just slightly more attractive than Mr Serbia

Of course the real downside of being a Russian Oligarch's gf, is that there is always the horrible possibility that he will get into a fight with that twat James Bond, and then you will be forced to snog his smug, horrible little face as the credits roll

Gilded cage sounds bloody good to me at present. I'd rather prostitute myself and get some perks out of it, than sell my soul to the firm I'm working for, get screwed over all day and have precious little to show for it I hate my job

I think only one poster has addressed the really salient point: the selfish arse with the bag on the seat next to him.

In future, OP, channel your inner imperious Russian beauty and say politely but icily 'Excuse me, please' until he moves the darn bag.

Public transport will become much more bearable and you won't have to keep going under the knife and shagging men of dubious professions and means unless you want to.

I actually think Abramovich is very attractive, regardless of the millions.

Mr Tinkly is actually a very successful businessman. I'm not too bothered about keeping myself gorgeous though because I broke his spirit long ago we have been together years and years and he is quite devoted.

i agree thumbwitch

Blimey, you'd think being surrounded by all that awful gilded crap wealth would make Mr Serbia a little more happy than he looks. Of maybe he doesn't smile because he doesn't want to show off his black teeth. Alas, I'm not aged 16-24 16 FFS! so he wouldn't be interested in me.

Not much chance of being an oligarch's girlfriend at my age, but I quite fancy being an oligarch's mum, or granny for that matter. Babushkas get treated well and are respected in Russia I believe.

I would love a Russian Oligarch tradeshow. My absolute no compromise essentials would be: I must have access at all times to the yacht, a live in make-up artist, 4 nannies, at least 16 weeks of the year in Southern Italy and promises that I could hold a ball twice a year at our country pile. I can just imagine the AIBU of an oligarchs mum/granny 'AIBU to think my DS should tell me how he got his money?' 'AIBU to think my DS' new DP is just interested in his money?'

what do you think his absolute no compromise essentials would be? just a little bit of compulsory sex do you think?

Ooh Mr Serbia is... um... yeah.

He's sort of squished and uncomfortable looking - as if he's sitting in a car when the airbag's gone off.

I reckon his no compromise essentials would be compulsory sex obviously done from behind so you didn't have to look at him and probably no laughing at his fur coats? And between 16-24, Mr Serbia likes 'em young. He does look rather uncomfortable.

The upside of marrying a dodgy oligarch is that their life expectancy must be quite low what with enemies sprinkling ricin in their tea and what not.

I fear you may have to add 'unlimited bum sex' to his 'no compromise essential list'.

Believe me, don't go there

squoosh you crack me up every time!

OP, if it's any consolation, I know someone who is married a very, very rich guy but in fact he is her boss - big time. I once popped into her mansion for something or other and his lordship came home unexpectedly. He was clearly annoyed that she dared to have a couple of mates around (glared at us). Then he marched into the massive kitchen, ripped open the fridge door and then proceeded to yell at her because she had neglected to buy his favourite fizzy drink! (Plus he and his lawyer had stitched her up with a pre-nup second to none which means even if after 20 years and three kids they split up, she gets bugger all.) Never been so happy to go home to my little flat at the time!

ThinkAboutItTomorrow: BUT 3 weeks after her c section he booked her in for a personal training session. So she could start getting back in shape.

If the selfish arse with the bag refused to move it, you should sit directly on it. My old boss used to do this to people and get away with it because he looked like Harry Potter and no one suspected he had done it deliberately.

If it is on the inside seat, lean across and reach for the window and then change direction swiftly and grab the bag out of the seat. Return it once they stand up and allow you the bag's seat.

If there weren't selfish arses in the world we wouldn't have to fantasize about marrying rich ugly men for money, leaving us lots of time to fantasize about having enough money to have a sucession of beautiful boyfriends.

I'd rather go for a rich geek. Painfully shy, grateful to have someone who's planning on sticking around & treats me like a queen no matter what I look like.

I teach Russian, and your thread has got me thinking about a new career sideline. Perhaps I could organise Russian language classes for potential girlfriends of Russian oligarchs. I could teach you all the most important phrases, e.g. "Buy me a new Bentley, darling" and "Not caviar for dinner again!"

I did have an affair once with a millionaire. (not an oligarch). He was researching Western culture by posing as a taxi driver. That explained his Liverpool accent.
I know he must be on a secret mission because he hasnt been in touch for a few years

I'd love a Mayfair address and loads of money but not too bothered about the Russian. If its fantasy why not have the money in your own right? Get a toyboy and buy your own diamonds and art.

AGnu If the geeks I've met in Silicon Valley are anything to go by, they lose that painfully shy and gratefulness the minute they make their first million or 10.

Yes I believe the tech geeks have shed the awkward and gormless image.

They're more or less like the oligarchs now, except they wear hoodies and don't tend to dabble in arms dealing so much.