The lady looked like she was in her late 30s, was constantly holding her phone inbetween her hands. She looked fidgety. Eventually asked me if I'm a local and when we land if public transport will be operating. I suggested she take an uber instead because it was nearing 2am. From her accent I asked where she's from, well I'm from Ukraine, oh okay, when did you leave? 4 days ago. Speak Russian? She responds in broken Russian that she knows her way around it. Asks I'm Russian? I explain in two words. Kind of. She mumbles under her breath in Ukrainian "Just my luck..."
The rest of the little communication was held in English. We were silent for the remainder of the trip, except when she went to take a leak and asked for me to scooth over. Suddenly toward the last 20 minutes she turned to me and said: About earlier when we spoke Russian, I've been trying to forget the language as many Ukrainians are doing. I told her I hadn't realised, sorry. She was quietly antipathic but remained polite, whereas I felt empathy, it must have been tough for her, as well as a sudden resentment for being associated with what was going on in her homeland. Like I don't owe her shit. I'm just a western vodka baby.
Helped her get an uber when we landed, and wished her good luck.
Should I have raped her?
