Four Shots of Scotch in Russia

Four Shots of Scotch in Russia

You are with Russian and American colleagues in Saint Petersburg, Russia – there are a total of ten people in the room.  It is four in the afternoon.  You are working in a major industrial installation with high voltage cables all around the yard and the buildings.  The Russians have delivered contract paperwork worth tons of money.  There is a one liter bottle of scotch on the table along with shot glasses, plastic cups, bread, and ham.

Two days before, the Russians were in Moscow.  They had a short 30 minute ride to the Moscow Sheremetyevo airport that morning to board a flight for Saint Petersburg.  However, Fred’s boss had insisted that the Russians deliver to him paperwork substantiating the large contract payment.  Thus, the Russians in Moscow had to drive for an extra hour and a half to their company headquarters to retrieve the paperwork.  They had to fight the Moscow traffic and had to rush to get to the airport.  They were frustrated at this extra effort.

So, the Russians told Fred that he had to purchase them some whiskey in compensation for this extra effort.  The final day on the work site had arrived.  Fred and the other Americans walked into the office.

“Good morning,” says Fred.

Fred extends his hands to the Russians.  They do not shake his hand.

Fred is thinking.  Okay, What is going on here?

Boris says, “Where is the whiskey, Fred?”

Fred responds, “Do not worry about it.”

Boris responds, “You do not have the whiskey?”

Fred says, “Maybe – maybe not, but you will get it.”

Fred extends his hand to Boris.  Boris begins to pout and does not shake Fred’s hand. 

Wow, so this Russian will not shake my hand!

Fred says, “You will not shake my hand?”

The Russians remain silent.

Fred says, “It is a big insult to Americans if you do not shake hands!”

Fred thinks.  Man, am I going to have a lot of fun with this today.

Fred then laughs, walks away and begins the work of the day. 

“Hey Bob,” says, Fred, “What do you think we should do with our commie friends – I mean – we can’t let those Russkies get away with not shaking hands this morning!”

Bob and Fred laugh, and plot a little trick to play on the Russians – all in good humor, of course.  They leave for lunch.  They walk through the front gate, and wave to the guard as they turn right on the sidewalk and head toward the café.  They walk for a half-mile, and then have lunch at the café.  After eating, they leave the café and cross the street to shop for whiskey at a food store.  What do they purchase?  They get whiskey, yes, and chocolate, but they also get something else.  They get some Kvass.  This is non-alcoholic beer.  They purchase a large bottle of kvass.  The Americans have plans for this kvass.  Yes, plans. 

They return to the worksite.  They finish the work for the day.  Fred calls in his translator, Alex, and asks if the Russians are ready for the whiskey.   Alex says yes.  So the Americans arrive at the office.  Fred carries the kvass, and Bob carries the whiskey.  Fred enters the room with the kvass, but Bob hides the whiskey in a bag so the Russians cannot see it.

Fred, in a ritualistic fashion, raises up the Kvass, and presents it to the Russians and says, “Here!  Your Kvass!”  Fred places the kvass on the table.

The Russians pause briefly.  Then, they begin smacking their mouths in disappointment, and spitting.  Some of them wave their hands and say, “Eh!” The leader of the Russian group, Gory, sighs deeply in disbelief and runs his hands through his hair and then places his head in his hands.  Gory is thinking to himself.  WTF?!

Fred then bows slightly, and then begins to leave the office.  The Russians are still in disbelief from being presented with non-alcoholic beer instead of scotch.  Fred walks out of the office. 

He waits outside for about a minute or two.  Then, he enters the office again with scotch this time.  He presents the scotch to the Russians in a ritualistic fashion, and says, “Here is your scotch, you Russians!”

Gory - the leader - then sighs a big sigh of relief.  The other Russians begin smiling again in relief.  Fred says, “You cannot refuse to shake hands with an American!”  Everyone laughs.  It was a good joke.

Now we are where we started with the story. 

There is a one liter bottle of scotch on the table along with shot glasses, plastic cups, bread, and ham.

Vladimir takes the bottle of scotch and opens it.  He places shot glasses around the table, along with some plastic cups, since there are not enough shot glasses.  He pours one shot of scotch in each container.  Everyone gathers around the table, takes one of the containers and lifts it in preparation for the shot.

Gory makes the first toast.  He raises his glass and says, “I propose a toast to new friends!”  Everybody kicks back the first shot.

Fred makes the second toast.  He raises his glass and says, “I propose a toast to a new generation of Russians and Americans as business partners and friends!”  Everybody kicks back the second shot.

Fred is thinking.  Is this the end?  Are those Russians going to drink the rest of that bottle tonight?

Vladimir begins pouring the third round.  Fred looks on and pauses.  Oh crap, I have to drink another shot of scotch with the Russians and I have not eaten anything yet since noon!

Everyone takes the third round.  By this time, there is no brain power left for elaborate toasting, and everyone simply lifts their glass and says aloud, “Nastrovia!”

Fred thinks.  Okay, I think I have to pack up and go now.  And then…  Oh crap, Vladimir is pouring the fourth shot!

By this time there are only five guys willing to kick back shot number four.  There is Fred, Bob, Vladimir, Gory, and Alex.  Everyone is getting wobbly and slowly raises their glasses.  They all slur the words, “Nastrovia!”  They kick back shot number four!

So, these five guys have kicked back four shots within less than five minutes!

Fred tries to move to make sure he will not collapse on the floor.  He is not sure.  Crap!  Will I fall down the steps getting out of here?  Are those Russians drunk too?  Fred slowly grabs his bag and slowly makes his way down the steps to the driveway.  Everyone is a little dizzy and wobbly, but tries not to show it.  They are all “tough guys,” you see.

The taxis are waiting.  Fred and Bob take one together.  They throw their bags in the back seat and get in.  Fred is ready for a nap.  He closes his eyes before thinking once more. That was another “WTF?” moment in Russia…

Freddy Martini

Chinese Visitors in Saint Petersburg Russia

Chinese Visitors in Saint Petersburg Russia

***Scatological Content Advisory

Much thanks to my dear friend in Saint Petersburg who gave me this story, and who wishes to remain anonymous.

You work at a hotel in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  You know what you are doing, and you have been doing this for some time.  It is August, and for the last few months, Chinese visitors have booked rooms at the hotel.  You have no idea what they are doing in Saint Petersburg, or even what they are doing in Russia.  Perhaps they are spies for their country – maybe, maybe not.

A Chinese visitor comes to the front desk, and asks you a question in Chinese.  You respond that you do not speak Chinese.  The visitor continues on in Chinese.  You then explain calmly that you can speak and understand either Russian or English, but not Chinese.  So, what does the Chinese visitor do now?  He takes out a sheet of paper and borrows a pen from you.  He then proceeds to write down some Chinese characters on the sheet of paper.  He then shows these Chinese characters to you, and he then tries to explain in Chinese together with these Chinese characters on paper what he is trying to tell you.  You are now exasperated, and repeat that you can only speak Russian or English.

A little later on, two of these Chinese visitors come back to the front desk; one is a man and the other a woman.  They ask where the toilets are.  You motion to your right that the toilets are around the corner.

So, the Chinese man and woman go to the toilets.  A little while later, they come out, and then go on their way.  A half-hour later, you receive a report from a guest that there is a large piece of shit on the floor of the hotel bathroom.  So, you call the janitor to inspect.  The janitor inspects the floor of the toilet, and sure enough, there is a large piece of shit on the floor.  The janitor then inspects the women’s toilet, and there is a large piece of shit on the floor there too!

So, a Chinese man and a Chinese woman go into the hotel toilets and they both shit on the floor!

So, you are telling this story to your American friend, Freddy Martini, in English.

You: “They both make shit on the floor!”

Freddy is laughing uncontrollably at this point.  You are thinking why is he laughing?  Did I say something wrong in English? 

You: “Freddy, did I say something wrong in English?”

Freddy: “No, the story is just so damn funny, and the way you said it in English is hilarious.”

You: “Well, how do I say it?”

Freddy is still laughing at the story.

Freddy: “Give me a piece of paper - I will write this out for you in correct English.”

Freddy takes out his pen and writes out what you told him

“They make shit on the floor.” 

Then he laughs out loud again.  You are thinking WTF is he doing - this crazy American man - Jesus! 

Freddy: “Okay, this is what you said.  This is a very funny story.  The way you said it in English makes it even funnier, but it is perfectly understandable, which makes it that much more funny.”

Freddy then writes the phrase in correct English on the piece of paper:

“They shit on the floor.”

Freddy: “Okay, here is the correct way to say it in English.”

Freddy shows you the piece of paper and then continues to laugh once more at the hilarious story and the hilarious explanation of how to correctly put bad words in to proper English grammar.

Freddy: “You know that ‘shit’ is a bad word in English, right?”

You: “Yes I do, it is also a bad word in Russian, too.”

Freddy, “Yes, the Russian word is ‘govnah,’ right?”

You: “Yes it is.”

Freddy laughs again.  He then gets out his guitar and begins strumming in the hotel lobby, playing Bob Seger’s tune “Turn the Page.”

He is thinking to himself once more, That was another “WTF?” moment in Russia!

Freddy Martini

Russia, what hast thou done to me?

Russia, what hast thou done to me? Thy mysteries and thy size always seduce me into thy arms. Thy passion and thy deep waters of feeling and emotion do not drown me. I float and ride atop thee. Water to drown. Fire to burn. Air to breathe, and Earth to roam. I sing a song for thee.

The road to Russia. I love the road, I hate the road, I make love to the road, and I abuse the road. And, she loves it.

Dancing with the Hare Krishnas in Saint Petersburg Russia

Dancing with the Hare Krishnas in Saint Petersburg Russia

Situation

You are walking down Nevsky Prospect in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  You visited the Kazan Cathedral, and you are walking along the canal to visit another church called Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood.  The sun is shining.  It is warm enough to wear a sport jacket, but you often have to take it off because you are walking all day long; when the wind is not blowing, you sweat a little.  You have a couple of guys with you, and a girl tagging along.  They are all Americans except the girl.  You took a short 15 minute taxi ride from the hotel to near Arts Square.  You desire to bathe in the beauty of Saint Petersburg for an afternoon: beautiful buildings and beautiful ladies.  Eventually, you see something you had not expected: a group of chanting and dancing Hare Krishnas.

Atmosphere

Looking out the window of a third floor café as you eat lunch across from the Kazan Cathedral, you can see the tourists with their cameras on their chests held secure with a neck strap; they wear casual clothes – often with shorts, and usually ill-fitting.  The natives, however, are well-dressed.  The ladies of Saint Petersburg are always well-dressed, and they know how to swing their hips be they wearing black pants or short skirts one to two inches above the knees.  Females here look most charming wearing a one-piece outfit with matching high heels; it drapes over their well sculpted bodies and gently bounces with the staccato movements of their walking with a grace only the beauty of Slavic girls can pull off.

Journey

After seeing Kazan Cathedral, you cross the street Nevsky Prospect, take an immediate right on the sidewalk and then go across the Griboyedova Canal, and then hang an immediate left on Griboyedova Canal Drive.  So, you pass several buildings.  Tour boats pass in the canal to your left.  The people in the boats wave to you and you wave back.  You get to a street whereby if you turn right, it takes you to Arts Square. 

Taking a Closer Look

You look past this intersection, and you see a group of people – perhaps 50 or so – singing and chanting, and holding up a blue sign in Russian displaying what the words to the chant are.  Some are holding pink pennants, and other orange ones.  The men are dressed in robes.  Some wear scarves on the robes and others have tee-shirts.  The women are all wearing long dresses that reach almost to the floor.  The women and men are in separate groups.  They dance separate dances, but to the same music.  A few people are playing drums.  The chant is repeated indefinitely.  Tourists stare on in a large crown about equal or slightly less than the group of Hare Krishnas.  People are taking pictures and video footage.

May I have this Dance?

Freddy is looking at the spectacle in amazement.  Freddy looks at Robert and laughs.  Robert laughs in return. 

Robert smirks, and says, “Hey, why don’t we go join them?”

Freddy thinks for a moment and responds, “Not today.”

Robert challenges, “Hey, you know, live dangerously – let’s go dance with them.”

Freddy declines.

Robert says, “Well, I think I will go and dance with them.”

Jack is already to the front of the Krishnas with his high quality camera ready.  Robert and Freddy are standing to their left near the group of men dancers.

Freddy thinks to himself.  Robert will not do it.  I cannot believe that he will do it.  Then…Oh crap, there he goes.  He is doing it! 

Robert easily saunters right next to the male dancers of Krishnas and begins moving in sync with them.  They look at him, smile and continue dancing.  Freddy looks on the crowd and sees a few Russian women and tourists giggling at Robert’s stunt of joining in the dance. 

Freddy moves to the front of the Krishna group toward Jack to ensure that Jack is catching this with his camera.  Freddy is laughing hard.  Robert is moving his legs and torso in sync with the Krishna men.  He even puts his hands in the air as he moved to the rhythm of the beat.  Freddy cannot stop laughing.  Russians and tourists are giggling. 

Robert then eases out of the dance and joins Freddy and Jack toward the front of the group for one last look at the Krishnas.  Jack takes a few more photographs and then they are off to the Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood.

All three travelers are thinking the same thought silently.  Wow, that was another “WTF” moment in Russia.

Paying off Police in Russia

Paying off Police in Russia

Let’s go for a true international adventure.  Let’s get in trouble with the Russian police!  You think I am joking?  I swear - I was in the car at least two times that I can remember where the driver was forced to pay a bribe. 

I personally was never the driver, but I was right there in the middle of the story.  (No, you cannot say I ever paid a bribe.)  And of course, most policemen in any country are probably honest folks out to make their world a better place, but some of those guys are some crazy cats...  Well, here goes…

You are riding along in a car with your Russian friends, and perhaps a few friends of other nationalities – other Americans, perhaps.  The traffic is heavy.  You are traveling about 30 miles per hour.  You can see a police officer about 300 feet in front of you.  He has on a Russian police hat.  The policeman holds a black baton in his right hand, and he is alternately grasping it with his left hand.  Grasp.  Let go.  Grasp.  Let go.  He performs this ritual similarly to the way some animals rub their hands together before a tasty meal of fresh meat.

You drive closer to where the officer is standing.  At about 100 feet, the officer begins to eye you strongly.  He is stares right at you - eye to eye.  Your heart sinks, and you know something is about to happen.  He points his baton at your car in an instant and then signals you to pull over immediately to the left.  He blows a whistle at the same time, too.  In the staging area, he has pulled over four other cars in the same spot – yes, four other cars. 

What day is it?  It is Monday.  What do Russians do on Sunday evenings?  Russians drink.  It is true.  Russians are professional drinkers, and it is not wise to try to keep up with them unless you have at least 50% Slavic blood in you.  Just sayin’.

The driving law in Russia for getting a DUI (drunk driving charge) is to have any amount of alcohol on your breath using the breathalyzer test.  In the United States, the blood-alcohol level is somewhere around 0.1 or 0.08 to qualify as legally drunk while driving.  In Russia, any level above zero qualifies as drunk if one is driving.

What happens if you are charged with a DUI in Russia?  You can get your driver license suspended for two years.  Think about that.  If every Russian driving were stopped on Monday morning and tested for DUI, there would be no Russian drivers left on the streets!  So, what happens in this situation?  You got it.  The police can extract tons of cash from this little dirty law.  The policemen can then pay for prostitutes, drugs, mistresses, and vodka on their small salaries.

So, if you are a guy with a regular job on a regular salary, and you have to drive ten miles to get to work every morning, what do you do on Monday morning when the police pull you over and have you blow into the breathalyzer and say your blood-alcohol level is 0.03?  In the United States, nothing would happen to you since a level of 0.03 is nothing at all – you can take cough medicine and get these low level measurements. 

But, in Russia, the letter of the law says that any blood alcohol level above zero makes you in violation.

Okay, let’s get back to the story - so, you are sitting in your car in the staging area after the policeman pulls you over.  You open your trunk and grab your identification documents and the car registration.  You walk toward the police car, and you get inside on the passenger side.  You ask the policeman what is the problem.  He says that there is “something funny” about your car, but he says nothing else.  He pretends to inspect the documents for some time.  So, you get out of your car and walk around to get some fresh air.  The policeman signals you to return to the passenger side of the police car.  You sit and ask again, “What is the problem?”  He replies that you seem strange this morning, and he thinks you have been drinking.  You reply that you had one beer last night around 8PM.  He instructs you to blow into the breathalyzer.  You blow.  The meter reads 0.03.  The policeman says that you are too drunk to drive. 

So, what do you do?  If you admit to the charge officially, you lose your license for two years.  Now, if you are a regular guy with a job, what are your options?  The officer says that you can get a measurement confirmation at a local hospital.  But, the officer says that a lot of guys get very nervous in the hospital, and break down and eventually admit to drinking and driving before getting to the hospital test.  So, you are screwed when the cop asks you for 50,000 rubles (~$1600).  Of course, this is the first asking price of the negotiation, and, like any negotiation, the first price is not the final price. 

So, you come back to your own car and discuss this with your friends.  Just in case the cop is crazy, you plan for the worst and ask how much money everyone in the car has.  You talk about previous cases of bribery and figure out that the final bribe will be about 10,000 rubles (~$312).  You return to the cop car and state that if you were really drunk, the officer would not even let you back on the street.  The officer plays around and eventually lowers the asking price to 25, 000 rubles (~$780).  This, of course is not the final price, since the officer really wants this bribe for paying to visit his prostitute Olga tonight, and he does not really want to take your license away, because you would no longer be a candidate for the next bribe!  You should never screw over a paying customer!  You ask the cop if he would blow into the breathalyzer himself.  The cop smirks and mentions that it would not be hygienic for him to place his own mouth on the machine since it may contain germs and he cannot miss a day’s work because his job is so important to public safety.  Nice try…

You return to your car for the final strategy.  You get 11,000 rubles (~$340) in cash in your hand.  You ensure you have back-up cash in case the officer does not want to negotiate.  You get out of your car, and approach the cop car.  You tell him that among all the people in the car, all you have is 11, 000 rubles, and the final offer on the bribe is 10, 000 rubles.  The cop places his hand to his chin and rubs it as if considering the offer deeply.  He looks at you, and then looks forward at the traffic, again rubbing his chin.  He looks at you again, and says “okay.”  He takes the bribe.  But, wait - do you ask for a receipt so that you can enter it into your business expense report?  Of course, you do not – you are not that stupid! 

You then walk back to your car cursing that you just got ripped off for 10, 000 rubles (~$312).  Oh, and you are 45 minutes late getting to your business meeting.

The Russian cop is back in his car counting the money.  He slowly slides the cash into his left front pocket.  Of course, you did not see the flask of Jack Daniels he had in the console.  The cop takes a shot of whiskey (50 milliliters!).  He thinks about his whore Olga.  She is a bit fat, but she is cheap.  He can see her tonight after work.  He just has to make some excuse to his wife about having to work late tonight on a tough case of Chechen mafia gangsters trying to steal Russian BMW’s and taking them for a drunken joyride before crashing them in to the ditch and making a run across the border before the cops catch them. 

That story works every time.

Freddy Martini

   

Attacking the Dunes on Lake Michigan

Attacking the Dunes on Lake Michigan

The Silver Lake dunes on Lake Michigan contain kinetic pleasure when you need it. 

You arrive in the truck with the ATV’s in tow on the trailer.  The attendant unloads the ATV’s and gives you instructions on the dune layout and rules.  Strap on your helmet and goggles.  Get on the ATV, shift the thing into forward, and press the gas with your thumb.  For a quarter of a mile, you ride on sand until you get to the entrance gate.  At the entrance gate, the clerk checks your flag to ensure that it is at least 10 feet high.  The flags are red to orange.  The flags ensure that when you crest a hill, those downhill can see you far enough in advance to prevent a collision.

You drive along the entrance road on your way to the dunes. The speed limit is 15 miles per hour.  This is another quarter of a mile.  This gives you enough time to get a feel for the ATV – the brakes, the accelerator, and the balance of the vehicles while turning into the curves.

Finally, you enter into the dunes.  They look like hills.  They are steep and high – some of them.  There is a test hill there where you can see large trucks and large dune buggies attempt to climb.  ATV’s cannot climb the test hill; it is too high.  It is a large pile of sand.  The wind blows the sand, and you never know exactly what the dune’s shape will be from day to day.  Even as you drive around, you see blowing sand. 

Drive along the ridge to the front of the test dune.  You find a place where your ATV can make it to the top of the hill.  You point your ATV directly to the top of the dune; take care that you do not attack the dune at an angle lest you flip the vehicle, break your leg, and have to call in a helicopter to evacuate you to the nearest hospital.  You press the gas with your thumb at full blast.  The ATV races to max speed.  You begin climbing the hill of sand.  The ATV slows down.  It slows down some more.  You approach the crest, and your ATV is struggling and complaining.  If you started out fast enough, you crest the dune, and for a brief moment you are airborne.  Your ATV points downward and your heart skips a beat in terror as you fall toward the Earth.  Your ATV, in a split second, is back on the ground, but you are going down the hill fast; very fast.  Your heart races again in terror as you fly toward the bottom of the hill.  You fell that you may just slam into the bottom of the hill perhaps for the last time.  Then the ATV negotiates the bottom and it jolts your body is pure ecstasy of victory over the dune and over death!  You again press the gas toward full blast at the bottom and your ATV blasts forward toward the next dune hill. 

You crest perhaps two or three more dunes until you get to the exit road, which, you turn left if you want to exit, or you turn right to continue on again toward your next dune adventure trail. 

Wild Bill’s rentals have everything you need.  You can rent ATV’s or dune buggies there.  The contract is straight forward and simple.  For an ATV, you just need valid driver license.  They supply the helmet and the goggles.  For a dune buggy, you will have to put down a deposit of a few hundred dollars, and you only need goggles, but not a helmet.    

When driving there, take care to make sure your wallet, phone, and other personals are secured to your body, or leave them in your car.  The place is large, and if you lose your stuff, it could be covered in a foot of sand by the time you figure out you lost it.

And, do not be afraid to hit the gas.  That is what the dunes were made for.

Freddy Martini

Crazy Eyes in Saint Petersburg Russia

Crazy Eyes in Saint Petersburg

A Tale from Russia

Freddy, Vladimir, and Rick were seated at the restaurant in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  Vladimir and Freddy sat on one side, and Rick sat across from them.  The meal was finished; they paid the bill, and left the customary 10% tip for the waitress.  Rick decided that he wanted to return to his room, so he bid Freddy and Vladimir goodbye, and left.

Freddy then gulped down the last few drops of vodka from his shot glass and looked up.  What the hell?

A woman walked up to where Rick sat across from Freddy and Vladimir, and sat down.  She executed the sitting motion as if she were expected for a business lunch.  Freddy looked at Vladimir to gauge his reaction. 

Uh, is this some colleague of Vladimir’s or some business lady he knows?  Freddy was thinking.

Vladimir looked back at Freddy and thought Oh, hell, what has Freddy done now? Is this his secret girlfriend or something?

“Is this your mistress?” Vladimir asked, and then laughed. 

Freddy responded in a slight whisper, “Nah,” and quickly nodded his head “no.”

Freddy looked into the woman’s eyes, and saw that crazy look he recalled when he lived near an insane asylum in his younger days in California.  She appeared as if she were ready to break some news to Freddy.

Freddy was thinking, oh, crap, I bet she thinks I unceremoniously dumped her daughter or something.  Maybe I look just like her daughter’s boyfriend.  Just wait for it.  Here comes some tear-jerking story followed by wild accusations.  Here it comes…

“I have seen you - I have watched you,” the woman says to Freddy.

“You are a strong man – a very strong man,” she continues.

Freddy and Vladimir are now staring at this woman with puzzlement and disbelief.

What the freaking hell is happening here?

She continues talking to Freddy, “And you are a good man.”

Freddy replies, “Good for what?”

She responds, “For love.”

Huh?  Is she a prostitute on the prowl?  No, she can’t be – she is not good-looking enough to be a prostitute. 

“How do you know I am not an evil man?” asks Freddy

“You are,” she responds.

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it.”

“You can feel it?”

“Yes.”

Freddy gets a bit irritated by the mysterious con-man approach, and goes direct, “Okay, who are you, where are you from, and what do you want?”

“I am Olga,” she says. 

There is a strip club connected to this hotel and restaurant, so Freddy thought he would lie-test her a bit.  The strip club would be directly behind her from where she sat.

“Do you work at that place 500 meters behind you?” Freddy asked, indicating the strip club location.

She quickly responded, “Yes.”

Freddy looked in her eyes, and saw a fake confirmation along with that crazy look again.  She is full of crap.  She obviously does not have the body of a stripper, and she is faking the facial expression.  Her expressions may fool an amateur, though.

“Where are you from?”  Freddy asks.

“I am from [unrecognizable gibberish],” she says.

“Where?” Freddy repeats

“I am from [unrecognizable gibberish],” she says.

She adds, “It is very far away.”

“Far away?” Freddy asks.

“Very, very far away,” she replies.

Freddy takes a closer look at her face and other features like skin tone and race indicators.  She is definitely Eastern European, not Asiatic, and she cannot be from far away.  She is probably Russian.  Maybe middle or Southern Russian, but Russian nonetheless.

“You are not from far away from here,” Freddy says, “You are from somewhere close to here.”

“How do you know?”  She pleads.

“I know,” Freddy says bluntly.

“I am from New York,” she says confidently.

“New York?”

“Yes, I am from New York.”

“You were in New York,” she says, “I have seen you.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, many times.”

Freddy contradicts, “I only fly into and out of New York.”

“I am from New York,” she tries once more.

“No, you are not from New York,” Freddy retorts.

“Okay, what do you want?” Freddy asks.

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” she asks.

“Where do you work?” Freddy asks.

“I am homeless,” she responds.

“Oh, yeah, homelessness is a problem over here,” says Vladimir.

Freddy looks at Vladimir, and nods.  Vladimir nods in return.

“Let’s go,” Vladimir says.

“Ok,” replies Freddy.

Freddy grabs the tip for the waitresses for his bill, walks to the cash register and gives the tip and bill holder to the girl at the register.  Freddy notices that Rick’s tip is still sitting on the table directly in front of the crazy eyes woman.  Freddy quickly walks toward the table and says “eezveeetyeh (excuse me)” and grabs Rick’s tip and bill holder from in from the crazy woman.  Freddy brings this to the girls and specifically instructs the girl at the register to give this to Alena – the girl who served as waitress that evening.

Freddy and Vladimir go to their respective rooms at the hotel adjoining the restaurant.  Freddy picks up the phone receiver and dials Rick’s number.

“Rick?”

“Yeah, what’s up, Freddy”

“Dude, you are never gonna believe this.  I have another “WTF?” story for you.  Something really crazy just happened downstairs at the restaurant,” says Freddy.

“Oh, no, - what now?” say Rick.

Freddy begins telling the story.

“Aw… you gotta be messing with me,” says Rick.

“No, man, I swear dude - no freaking joke,” replies Freddy.

Freddy tells Rick the tale, and they both laugh, and then hang up the phone after chatting for about 3 minutes.

After some time, Freddy wonders what will happen downstairs in the restaurant.  Curiosity gets the best of him.  He grabs his wallet, and the hotel key, and races to the elevator.  He gets onto the elevator and presses the “1” key for the ground floor – his room was on the seventh floor of the hotel.  He rides, then exits the elevator and makes his way to the restaurant entrance.  He looks right - toward the bar - and sees some of the girls.  He walks further into the restaurant and looks left to where he and his colleagues sat a few minutes before.  She is still sitting there.  Freddy goes up to one of the girls – Alena – and asks for “voda mineralne bess-gaza (still water).”  As Alena gets the water, Freddy looks back at the crazy woman sitting down.  She stares straight ahead, not moving her head left or right.

Freddy then walks out of the restaurant, thinking Wow - another “WTF?” moment in Russia.

Freddy Martini

Black Sea Spa in Sochi Russia

Black Sea Spa

The spa is at Hotel Adelphia.  It is in Adler, Russia right on the Black Sea, about 10-15 minutes from the site of the 2014 Sochi Olympics.  The staff is quite charming, and many are competent in English.  The hotel restaurant has a full menu of food and drinks; it is nice because it is open 24 hours every day.  They also have a “roof” on the 6^th floor where friends and colleagues can gather around coffee tables and sofas to discuss business over cocktails, or jokes over whiskey; all this with an almost 360 degree view. 

You want to feel, so you do it.  Your swimsuit is on.  Your shirt and shoes are off.  The security gate feels cold.  The guard buzzes you inside.  You walk along a dark grayish corridor down small steps.  You take a right turn along the shiny marbled walls into the staging area.  You store your watch, wallet and shoes into the boxed storage shelf, and grab a towel.  You walk into a large room with low ceilings.  Marble is everywhere.  Shiny marble is everywhere.  The steam room is ready.   Open the door, and walk in.  You can breathe the water vapor in the air.  Your lungs can take it, strangely enough.  You sweat.  You sweat some more.  Turn on the water faucet, and fill a metal bowl with tepid water.  Pour it over your head; it feels like cold water in the steam.  You shiver from the cold shock.  Then, you feel the hot steam.  You sweat again – you sweat some more.  You get up to leave, you feel the hot air enclosing around your body.  You reach for the door and hope it opens.  It does. 

You are back in the main room.  To your right is the hot room without steam.  You enter and see brown wood everywhere.  There is a furnace to the left with hot rocks stewing over the intense heat.  It is somewhat dark.  You can barely see the wood grain.  Again, you sweat, but you do not feel the steam at your face.  You breathe in – heat fills your lungs hot as fire.  The air surrounding you is hot like a warm summer’s day, but perhaps five times as hot.  You sweat some more.  Then, you stand up and walk to the door.  You are back in the main room. 

You walk to a small pool about five times the size of a bathtub.  Your hand in the water feels like an icy glass of water.  You climb down into the pool.  Toes first.  It is icy cold.  Next, your legs.  You shiver.  Your stomach goes below and you gasp for breath.  Now, your neck is below the water and you are in a large glass of ice.  You move your body and the cold tightens around your entire body.  Soon, you have enough of the cold, and you climb the ladder out of the ice pool.  You immediately jump into the adjacent pool at room temperature and relax.  Your muscles thank you. 

The adjacent room has a treadmill.  Beyond the treadmill, there is a kitchen and dining room.  The dining table has perhaps 8 seats.  There are two sofas beneath a large television.  You chat with friends and colleagues (or perhaps with a few locals, maybe) around the table and at the sofa.  Then you go through the spa once more in the steam room, the hot room, the ice pool, and then on to the regular pool. 

You brought a guitar with you.  You get out of the main pool.  You sing “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue to the top of your lungs.  You can see out of the basement window the silhouette of tourists and locals slowing down, and peering down into the lower floor wondering who is having a good time in the Russian spa.

From Moscow’s Sheremetyevo airport, the Adler-Sochi airport is a 2.5 hour flight.  Hotel Adelphia is a 30 minute taxi ride from the airport.  Go to the roof and order vodka with ice.  Chat with friends for an hour.  Then make your way back to the floor level, go out the front door and to the right side alley, and make you way along the Black Sea for a half-hour stroll.  Watch the sun set over the water as the waves crash into the rocks on the beach.  Bring your camera, because you will likely see a few model-quality girls out there too taking in the rays of the setting sun.

Freddy Martini