Kateryna was working in the hospitality tent during the European championships of twenty twelve when she learned Shevshenko, the talisman of the national team, was on his way.
All the hospitality girls were keen to shake Shevshenko by the hand or get him to sign autographs. But Shevshenko moved briskly along the line until he came to Kateryna and stopped.
“They look good,” he said, picking a canapé off the tray she was holding and popping it in his mouth.
“Very good,” he said, winking at the hospitality girl.
Kateryna could not help herself. “Do you like my flag?”
“Naturally,” he said, “I prefer your cheek.”
Kateryna was going to blush, but before she could Shevshenko had moved off down the line…
There he was talking to another of the hospitality girls! Like Kateryna, she was dressed in a blue skirt and a yellow blouse with a Ukrainian flag painted on her cheek.
“Do you like my flag?” she said.
“Naturally,” he said, “I prefer your cheek.”
“Would you like to see it?”
Kateryna thought she must have been daydreaming. Without further ado, her colleague hitched up her blue skirt and turned round.
As Shevshenko stepped back to admire the view, he picked a flute of champagne off a nearby tray and raised it.
“Na vse dobre!” he said, which some wags might translate as “Bottoms up!”
*
“What does she think he is going to do? I mean he is hardly going to whisk her off in the middle of the hospitalities.”
“She is just trying to make a good impression. That is what you are supposed to do in a hospitality tent.”
“But her friend has already beaten her to it.”
“She didn’t know that at the time.”
“Who is Shevshenko, anyway?”
“Some kind of blond footballer.”
“Oh, is he important? Do you suppose he has any tattoos?”
“Well, I don’t know about tattoos, but it looks like he ended up with a flag.”