marți, 3 noiembrie 2009

Real Bucharest

I became comment-addicted. Checking the blog every hour to see if anyone posted a comment...
Few colleagues and friends insist on asking whether the stories are real, whether they are my memories. Mostly, yes. What is funnier than reality any case?
All of the following are true and I will try to exaggerate modestly;

- After a terrible 3 weeks in a room at Gastinitsya Mezhdunarodnaya (World Trade Center) in Moscow, I found my apartment. A shithole of 40 square meters on Kitai Gorod (China Town), at the first floor of a smelly, crowded 6 floor building (and just for 2,000 USD per month). The apartments on that block were modified from "kommunalkas", small living rooms for each family (converted into bedroom at night) sharing a common kitchen/bathroom for each 20-25 households. I was asked to pay 3 months' rent in advance, 1 month rent as deposit - for the damage I could do (there was nothing I could possible add further to the smell and misery) and a month's rent as agency commission. I had 10,000 USD in my bag, riding with a cab to my new residence. (The dollar cash in circulation in Russia is 3 times higher than of in United States)
When the car entered the street, I opened my bag to take out my wallet and the green shine of dollars at the bag pocket enlightened the face of the Azerbaijani driver. He grabbed my arm and said few words that I didn't understand but seemingly threatening. Opened the door with the free arm, hit his face to release the other arm and jumped out to run. The real estate agent girl and landlady were waiting outside on the street, they saw the scene and started running after the driver who was following my city marathon...The driver caught me, the ladies caught us. I was saved, he was beaten bad. Stayed 6 months at that apartment until moving to Noviy Arbat (New Labor) street, where my car was stolen happily 3 times, by the same guys.

---- ---- ---- ----

- The management of the bank rented a "business suit" at Gastinitsya Mezhdunarodnaya, a duplex apartment of which the upper floor was serving as a guest house for new arrivals like me, until they found an apartment. First floor was the "Head Office". I was staying together with my future manager, as we both arrived to Moscow on the same day and were searching for residence.
Each night, at around 10pm, the chain-action of door-to-door sales was starting. Few knocks at the door, opening it you would meet every kind of white meat, always in a combination of 2 pieces, with short skirts and excessive make-up, asking "Want?" and giggling. They were so used and torn, "Do not want"was the only human answer. It kept going on with 20 minutes frequency until 6am in the morning.
It is funny for the first 3 times of the first night but after few weeks of sleeping disorder, one would get nervous. So did my boss... He was a person of comfort, hardly affording the first impressions of Moscow. About to go to sleep, brushing his teeth, dressed only with his Calvin Klein boxer shorts, the 10th knock on the door acted as a sprint shot for him. He rushed downstairs to open the door; to swear at the ladies. He forgot the luggages on the hall and trembled over, went down a dozen stairs on his head. I ran downstairs in panic and found him with blood dripping from his forehead, toothpaste foaming off his mouth, but conscious and nervous. Opened the door to get rid of the Knocking Birds and to call for help. The ladies started shouting by the scene. In less that 30 seconds security guards arrived, picked my boss and me as criminals by the arms and brought to the closest police section (downstairs at the hotel's groundfloor). After few questions in Russian and our answers in English, Turkish or German, we were allowed to call the lawyer of the bank, who got us released early morning. Only after a year learned the version that bastard lawyer told to the rest of our colleagues; two horny Turks called in the girls but the dispute to share the girls resulted in a bloody fight, the guys were so aggressive and excited, their mouths were splashing off.
I wouldn't let my dog to screw those meatbags but had established a decent reputation by the staff...

---- ---- ---- ----

IMF will disburse the 3rd tranche, EUR 1.5 billion. They cannot afford to have a red dot in Europe, possibly causing a regional catastrophe. It is much easier to throw EUR 1.5 billion to Romania and keep the engine running, instead of spending EUR 20-30 billion to save Turkey, Hungary and Czech Republic affected by the negative sentiment after. However, the IMF officials are executing now an humanitarian effort, trying to straighten political life in Bucharest. "Money talks, bullshit walks".

2 comentarii:

Anonim spunea...

Man, how could you say "NO", several times a night to rusian white meat? two, saying "want"?? were they so used or were you having CK boxers in your sight all the time??
:-):-)

T-Man O spunea...

They were junks, used and torn... But even if they were doable, the presentation wasn't adequate:)

Persoane interesate