A Ruined Night of Firsts

I shouldn’t have been so helpful when the buzzer rang at 0045 hours. I should’ve known by now that no one shows up at Yuri’s that late to join a party. I was contently drunk, but beyond four layers of doors stood the ruin of my happiness. No one from the reveling kitchen crowd—drowning in music and booze—said anything, so I got up from the living room la-z-boy from where I was filming Stephen proposing Ruslan to have a threesome with him (In Russian, of course). First eyehole: no one. Second eyehole: no one. Well, I was already at the door leading to the elevators, not going to let the lack of a little eyehole stop me from finding out who th…the sight of gray uniforms torpedoed my heart, and it sank ever further at the only word I recognized: Шум. I tried to play calm. “Oh, what noise? It’s nothing.” They were already entering. Shit, Yuri’s gonna kill me.

Well, he didn’t. But he did make me pay the bribe, which I self-determined to be 500 rubles. And he kicked us all out. Party’s over. Andy ruined the party. There’s a first for everything.

Oh I had no idea.

Roman invited us to go to another party of his friend’s. That he had something extra to gain at the party was lost amidst the cozy dynamics between him and Sasha that had been going on all night. A cop car pulled our gypsy cab over, another first for me. Our documents were fine, but Roman didn’t have his visa. What?! They took him into the cruiser. Ten minutes later he came back to the car a free man, 1000 rubles freer, to be exact. I hope they got something nice for their mothers.

In the living room sat skinny Russian blondes and average looking guys; there went half of my conversation partners. I was actually having an ok time, talking with a German and a Russian when all the people I didn’t know plus Roman left to dance in the hall. A few minutes later, the head blonde bitch Anastasia came in and sternly said a few sentences. Sasha—being Russian and all—understood and got up, but I was still stupidly smiling and asking her to say it slower. Even with my comprehension no-skillz, it was clear as lightning: “You are new, we don’t like you, get the fuck out.”

Wow. The best/worst first ever.

Roman didn’t seem terribly bent on standing up for us. Oh yeah, the animal instinct thing. The night was already ruined anyway, and sleep was long overdue, so we went on our merry way.

I heard today that Yuri will just give me a welcoming kick next time instead of banning me for eternity/the last week I’m here. At least there’s that consolation. That and Yuri’s mold for making ice penii and his penis-shaped whiskey bottle.