Russ has a very specific idea about women. They should be pretty and pure, non-drinkers, love flowers, meals in restaurants paid for by men in suits. They are so grateful for the attention of this handsome, charming guy they fuck him, with love and gratefulness. If they are hookers, they’ll fall in love, same with instathots.
If they don’t fit into that ideal-they slam a shot of tequila, gain ten pounds, aren’t grateful for the attentions of charming men, there is something wrong with them. They probably like saggy pants thugs and are not worthy of his attentions.
He’s never had a drink, tried weed, had coffee or a smoke. He believes he’s good looking, funny, talented. When reality hits him he has a tantrum. Remember when he used to shut down his Facebook when he left his computer-he has a need to control his image, and he sees himself with a girlfriend who is the 2020 version of Doris Day. (A 1950s clean cut caress/singer).
The only way he goes off his squeaky clean boomer rails is paying hookers. Which he uses his disability to justify. Other than that, he’s still very much on the Mormon train, and I bet he’d still wear the magic underwear if he wasn’t excommunicated.
The one puzzle piece that doesn’t fit is that handjob from the dude. I still can’t mentally put that together with the Russ I know.