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Kidnapped in Kiev
A few years back, a friend of mine I went to college in Boulder with called me.
He’d call me every few months from his UES penthouse and kvetch how bored he was since getting forced out of Goldman Sachs with a $72 million dollar severance package. Poor bastard.
ALEXEI: Scotty, I want to show you where I grew up.
Me: Kiev? Yeah. Let’s go sometime.
ALEXEI: Fuck sometime. Let’s go Thursday.
Me: Dude, I can’t just buy a last minute plane ticket to Ukraine.
ALEXEI: Shut up. Take down my credit card # & I’ll see you there.
I arrive to our hotel, fucked from Jetlag in the middle of the night and walk to the front desk and hand the attendant my passport. I can never sleep on planes. Not even in a lie flat lit up on Scotch & Ambien
Welcome to Kyiv! I am Nikolai.
ME: Hey Nikolai
NIKOLAI: Amerikanski yes?
ME: Yeah.
NIKOLAI: What you want do while in Kyiv?
ME: Nikolai. Everything.
NIKOLAI: You want shoot cow with Soviet Bazooka?
ME: (laughing. I love this guy already) That’s your opener?
