Tenspeed & Brownshoe

Saturday, April 01, 2006


Hey guys!

First of all, I want everyone to know that I'm still alive.


Just in case I get killed over here, I thought it would be smart to give you guys updates as to how I'm doing.

ACT I: "Where is your hotel voucher?"

Shockingly enough, the trip over here wasn't as long as I thought it was going to be. Every time I've flew overseas, it felt like I was on the plane for days but this went by really fast. Now here's something even more shocking: The airline food was horrible. Now I know what you're all thinking, "All airline food is horrible" but in my experience it's always been pretty good. This was the first time that it was truly disgusting. It was some chicken-like dish. It was sweet and it was wet. It reminded me of a 15 year old hooker.

So otherwise, this was your pretty standard trip. That is, until I got to Russia and the Passport Control. Keep in mind that going to Russia isn't as easy as buying a ticket and getting on the plane. In order to go to Russia, you need a Visa. In order to get a Visa, you need an Invitation. In order to get an Invitation, the place where you're staying has to be Registered with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. But like most things, I found a loophole. I was able to get an Invitation through some Finnish travel company. Which enabled me to get the Visa. So everything should've been hunky dorey, right? (By the way, that was the first and last time I will write the words "Hunky Dorey".)

When I approached the authoritarian "lady" at Passport Control, she studied my passport and Visa like a Salesman studies a Black Guy at a Department Store; with scrutiny. She even busted out one of those loop magnifying glasses. After about 5 minutes, she picked up the phone. Okay, let's get some clarity here. I'm in a foreign land where nobody really speaks English and this bitch was picking up the phone...which is never good. If you ever go someplace and the person across from you picks up a phone, that shit is NEVER good. Cause I damn sure didn't think she was gonna tell me that I won a prize. Well then some even more authoritarian motherfucker comes over and he asks for my ID. I tell him that she has my passport. He responds by saying the word "ID" again. I pull out my Driver's License and he begins to scrutinize that. For Five Fucking Minutes. But here's where my balls literally dropped. He looks at me--no, through me, and asks, "Where is your Hotel Voucher?" I'm kind of supposed to be staying at Registered hotel but remember that loophole I was telling you about? That loophole became my asshole and now I was being called out.

"Where is your Hotel Voucher?", he demands again. I hand him a piece of paper with my girlfriend's address on it. He looks at it, puts it aside, and asks, "Where is your Hotel Voucher?" The person behind me took one step back. I presumed for either TWO reasons.

1. Some hard hittin' motherfucker was gonna come out, beat the shit out of me, kick me in the head, and throw me in jail...


2. The stench of the shit that was running down my leg was beginning to become unbearable.

Well I must have looked pretty pathetic because he eventually waved me through. So there I am, in the middle of the airport, waiting for my girlfriend, looking more like a tourist than anyone ever has in the history of the world. We're talking, Christopher Columbus meets "The Indians" touristy. As I stood there, I noticed a pretty scary thing. Remember "Drago" from Rocky IV? Well, apparently in Russia, Drago's the guy next door. Drago, is the guy you pick on because he's smaller than everyone else. Drago is just some asshole and you can fuck his girlfriend right in front of him, cause hey, what the hell is he gonna do? I mean, he's only Drago. Every single guy looked like they could take me apart like an old set of legos. They're all huge, scary, and huge.

Well, that's it for now. I'm here for another week and I'll write again explaining how and why I'm gonna be on Russian television.