RuKsaK

I met MС Mikey G at 6pm and we went straight to the Red Lantern and had our fill of the Chinese buffet and downed four pints.

We caught a car to another bar, near Taxi Club, necked two more beers and went in. Taxi is mine and MC’s favourite strip club. He flirted with the strippers. I laughed. He laughed dirtier, spilling the pits of his belly on the table. He tried to get four strippers’ numbers, simultaneously, and we left at around midnight.

We got another car to Metro Club. Drank some silly-arse, vodka cocktails and some absinthe. The second made me weird and angry – needed a cola. The barman took my half-full glass before I’d finished. I kicked off, naming the barman the internationally recognised ‘motherfucker’, also including some relevant hand signals, and we got thrown out by some security who eat foreigners heads between meals, for a laugh. That was 3am.

We went to a cheap, fluorescent plastic bar. Had some obnoxious Russian beer.

Marstalls followed by 5.30am, fuckhole that it is. A whore advanced:
‘How much for two of us?’
‘$100’
‘Yeah, and if we film it?’
‘Same’
‘Hang on – we both want heavy arse sex. Also same?’
‘Nyet. $50 more.’
‘$50 more each cock or for the arsehole per se?’
‘For arse.’
‘I wanna get my dog involved. Licking, wee bit of bum sniffing. Is that okay on film?’ I interjected.
‘Not problem.’
Our heavy, ugly laughing ended the deal we were not trying to clinch anyway. It got them off our cases until we left an hour later. I didn’t have a dog.

In the Red Lion we had a breakfast and coffees spiked with double Armenian petrol-cognacs. At 8.30am, I said:
‘Fuck! Mikey G, I’m pissed up. This is not good.’
‘Yeah – let’s get a banya in and you’ll be sorted.’

I drank two more beers in the banya. Thought I was going to die of a headache in the plunge pool. Had difficulty rolling my underwear up my wet, drunk legs. We parted. 11am:
‘Are you gonna be alright getting there RuKsaK?’
‘Yeah. Do I look sober?’
‘No.’
‘Fuck!’
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I wobbled into Род Дом 1 (Birth House 1) at 11.15am. When my father-in-law saw me, he said:
‘On piani!’
He wasn’t saying something surreal about The Dog’s favourite musical instrument. Translated: ‘He’s drunk!’

The whole Russian family glared, staggered on this Sunday more than any. My wife glowered, disbelieving. My day-old daughter was asleep. I asked:
‘Can I lie down? I’m a little tired.’
I was asleep within one minute. When I awoke the full family had gone. My wife and very new, first child remaining, by a thread probably.

No words came. Just my feeble apologies and the realisation of how shitty I can be.
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No meaning here. Just to say I love my wife very much. She’s saved me a million ways and I don’t tell her often enough. She reads my blog though. I still apologise. I still wince when she says:
'I thought I'd made a mistake.'

Saturday, December 04, 2004

Low - a love story