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This past week's adventures began on Friday evening, when I was on the way home after a few drinks with my ex-girlfriend. She never minds a quick fuck for memory's sake, while her hard-working husband is out of town on a business trip. Anyway, this is just a personal aside, with no relation to this story.
I was pretty drunk when I left Ksyusha's, dreaming about nothing but getting to my favorite couch. Walking along the slippery frozen streets towards my dream, I suddenly saw something valuable on the ground. There was a passport right in the middle of the puddle saying, "Hey, Dima, come pick me up."
Judging by the picture it belonged to 20-year old loser who was smart enough not to keep cash with his documents. But everything else like Social security card, set of photographs, student ID, year-long public transport pass, and so on were all there.
My first thought was, I can buy myself an Xbox gaming console and 50'' Pioneer plasma TV on credit at Gorbushka. All you need to get credit for a nice new piece of hardware is to flash someone's passport (presumably yours but who cares nowadays).
It was a very tempting situation so I called my ex-girlfriend and asked to take full responsibility for the decision. Ksyusha said she wouldn't mind a new espresso machine and offered a lift to Gorbushka next day to complete out our transaction.
I was standing in the middle of dark and cold street completely alone, trying to decide what to do. The choice was between having Ksyusha making love to me on the table next to her Italian coffee machine; or this stupid dude who'll have to spend the next month going through the bureaucratic machine trying to renew his passport. I was wondering whether he works or not or whether his parents' salary will be enough to pay off whatever credit deal I charge to his name.
Though judging by the address of his propiska they certainly could handle buying not just a coffee machine but even a new mid-priced car.
Suddenly I decided that I should chose charity. I couldn't remember much of good from the past except maybe Kolyan, rayon guy who we took out to the center once and that changed his world completely. For dramatic improvement of my karma it was certainly not enough. So I decided to find this guy's address and give him back his passport. Right away.
I don't remember how much time I spent cruising around the neighborhood trying to figure out his address. I luckily escaped some drunk gopniki trying to beat the shit out of me (you can find armies of them in the night even in elitny downtown neighborhoods!). Finally I stood in front of a solid metal door. It was the entrance to some very expensive residential building. It was about 2 am when I started to call different apartments because the one I needed didn't answer.
Moscow is a rough city and if you are sober you don't expect people to open their thick metal doors to a stranger in the middle of the night. So I explained to the door my situation and how I wanted to do an act of charity. No luck. The people on the other side just hung up the domaphone without explanation. Then all of a sudden some gentle man's voice came on over the domaphone and asked me to come upstairs.
Their names were Luther and Nikolai, a German-Russian gay couple. Nice guys by the way, although I don't have many gay pals. I was worried about my ass the whole time, but other than that, it was fine.
They were very impressed by my story about the passport and promised to give it back to the owner who lived next door. I didn't want to stay too long in this strange couple's apartment, and suggested we leave for a club or something.
Luther got very excited and promised to take me to the best club for a club review ever (by that time I already secured my ass saying I'm a club reviewer for the eXile, which certainly says a lot about my sexual orientation). It sounded like an interesting idea so we left to see DEN' I NOCH' (DAY AND NIGHT) a gay club somewhere in a remote area of Polezhaevskaya.
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