I
immediately went to work arranging things.
One night during this upheaval, I was drinking at the best club in town,
a place called 111, with a German friend named Gerry. I explained to him what happened and
mentioned my short-term plan.
“So
I’ve been calling around looking for a safe place to store all my stuff for a
few months while I head stateside to figure things out. I’ll probably stay in Europe, but not Kiev…it’s
time to move on.”
“Mikey,
I have an idea. I’ve been renting a
corporate flat for when my colleagues visit from Frankfurt. I was going to let it go since we don’t use it
that often and it is an unnecessary cost.
But, if you are interested, you can store your things there and we can
split the rent.”
“This
could be interesting. Tell me about it.”
“It’s
two rooms with a small kitchen and bathroom in the center on Red Army Street. You can put your things in the bedroom and
lock the door and I will use the other space for colleagues. The living room has a couch that opens into a
bed, so it will work.”
“How
much is it?
“$600
a month, so we can split it- $300 each.”
“You
know, that’s cheaper than the storage places I’ve been looking at and I’m sure
it’s also safer. And I’ll have a place
to crash when I come back after the states.”
“Yes,
this will be our good cooperation.”
Gerry said with a broad smile.
“I’m
in.”
We
drank and agreed on everything. Over the
next few days, I checked out the flat, then bought a ticket for the States,
paid Gerry a few months rent and moved all my stuff there. Gerry described it perfectly. I had a small bedroom by the entrance where I
stacked all my worldly possessions around the bed and his colleagues would have
the bigger living room with a couch/bed, TV, balcony and a big dresser. I locked the bedroom door and flew to the
states shortly thereafter.
I
spent about five months in the states and returned to Kiev in the fall. I came to terms with losing my company and
planned on using Kiev as a short-term base while I interviewed for jobs in
Moscow and London. I wrote Gerry a few
days before I was due to arrive and informed him that I would be moving into
the flat early the following week. He
responded that he was looking forward to seeing me.
The
cheapest flight I could find back was through Paris and I got delayed over four
hours waiting for my connection at Charles de Gaulle airport. By the time I made it to the flat in Kiev, it
was a 16-hour commute and I was exhausted.
I looked forward to crashing for a few hours. When I tried to open the door, the lock
wouldn’t turn. I fiddled with it for a
few minutes to no avail. I rang the
doorbell a few times and kept trying to get the lock to open. After a few minutes, a guy and a girl, who I
had never seen before, opened the door from the inside. They weren’t fully dressed.
“You
must be Michael,” the guy said.
“Yes,
who are you?”
“I’m
Maxim. This is Nadia. We work with Gerry. He told us you arriving today.”
“Oh,
Ok, nice to meet you. Is Gerry here?”
No,
he let us use apartment sometime. Come
in.”
They
stepped back and I entered. They then
turned around, walked a few steps and turned into my storage room and shut the
door behind them. I had no idea what to
say or do, so I dropped my bags by the door and went to the living room and sat
on the couch. I looked around. The place was a total pigsty and the coffee
table had two ashtrays overflowing with butts and ashes. A thick layer of dust coated just about
everything and the windows were clouded with dirt. “What a fucking mess,” I said to myself.
After
a few minutes, I decided to wash up and brush my teeth, so I went back to
hallway to get my toiletry bag and a change of clothes out of my luggage. When I was going through my bag, I distinctly
heard the girl moaning and the bed in my room creaking over and over. Her moans grew louder. The guy was going to town and I just couldn’t
believe that this was my Kiev homecoming after a five-month hiatus following one
of the worst tragedies of my life.
I
shook my head, grabbed my things and went into the bathroom. I showered, changed into some sweats and then
went back to the living room. Maxim and
Nadia had finished their love session and when they heard me exit the bathroom,
they left the bedroom and went into it, cleaned up quickly, said goodbye and
left.
Once
I had the apartment to myself, I checked my room to make sure all my things,
especially my art collection, were still there.
Thankfully, everything seemed ok.
I then called Gerry.
“Ah-lo?”
“Hey
Gerry- it’s Mike.”
“Mikey! Welcome back to Kiev! We’ve missed you.”
“Thanks. I just arrived about a half hour ago and
there were some people in the apartment?”
“Oh
yes. That is Maxim and Nadia. They work in my office.” He just left it at that.
“I
understand, but what are they doing in the apartment and why is my room
unlocked? You told me that my things
would be secure and you would only use the living room when I was away?”
“Mikey
please--- It is young love! They love
each other, but are both married to other people. You know how it is. I told them that they could use the flat
during the week so they could be together.
I gave them a key.”
Yes,
but it’s my room with all my possessions.
This wasn’t our agreement-”
“Mikey,
I know these people- do not worry- it is alright. It is young love!” He seemed to place a high importance on the love
part and no importance on it being done in my room. Knowing it was hopeless, I let it go.
“Ok
Gerry, thanks. I’ll see you at 111 later
tonight.” I hung up.
I
was too exhausted to argue- the jet lag was getting the upper hand. I went into the bedroom, looked around for
some clean sheets to change the bed- there weren’t any, so I pulled the old ones
off, put them in the washer on a hot cycle and laid down on the blanket with my
jacket over me for warmth. I immediately
crashed for four hours.
The
sky was dark when I woke up. I turned
over and flipped on the light. I felt
something in my mouth and pulled out a pubic hair. A small black curly one. Oh god- what a nightmare! I looked more closely at the blanket. It was made of brown wool and under the light
I saw that it was full of pubes and crusted semen. I felt disgusted. “Fucking Gerry! This is what I get for going the cheap route!”
I screamed to myself.
I
got up, threw the blanket into the corner, took the wet sheets from the washer
and put them by the radiator to dry. I
then brushed my teeth excessively and took another long, hot shower. I was beaten down, depressed and distressed. It felt like my lovely Kiev had turned on me
in every way. I went to the bar for a
bite and to meet my old journalist friend from England, Brian. I tried not to think about the cum crusted
pubic hair ridden bed, but it was a hard thing to get out of my mind…especially
that damn pube that was in my teeth.
When
I got to 111, the place was jumping. I
found Brian at the bar and grabbed a seat next to him. The bar was elevated in the center of a big
room surrounded by a dance floor and it ever so slowly rotated in a circle so
you were constantly moving around and could check out different areas as it went
around. As usual, the club was packed
with girls, drunks and good times. I
told Brian the story about my storage room and waking up with a pubic hair in
my teeth….he had a hearty laugh about it.
“I
probably should’ve told you mate- Gerry has been very open about handing out
the keys to that place.”
“What? What are you talking about???”
“I’ve
seen Gerry offer the place many a night to people who need a fuck pad. I didn’t know they were using your room, but the
place is open for fucking to just about anyone he knows.”
“You’re
shitting me- my whole fucking life is in that room and strangers have been fucking
in there for the last five months?!?”
Brain
was red in the face from laughing about it.
“Ask Tigran if you don’t believe me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a key on him right now.” He said before getting into another laughing
fit.
“Tigran? You’re taking the piss– right?” Tigran was the head security guy at the
bar. He was a short burly dude from
Armenia who was always glistening in sweat and was covered in hair from head to
toe.
“From
the sounds of it mate, it may have been Tigran’s pubic hair you found in your
mouth.” Brian’s love of this situation
was undiminished. He waved Tigran
over. He had a key on him.
I
couldn’t believe it. Against the
backdrop of Kiev’s vibrant nightlife I realized that anyone can go from top of
the heap to the gutter in the blink of an eye, but the gutter isn’t the end-
you can just as easily fall through the grate and into the sewer, with all the
other pubes, semen, rats and other nasty shit.
I
took the first job I could find and was in Moscow within a couple weeks. Another chapter began from the ashes…
###
Want to read another fun tale from the wild days of Kiev? Ever heard about a bear riding a motorbike? Check out Another Day at the Circus Linked below-)
