Kilt Guy

I saw something odd the other morning. I was on my way to work and stopped at the grocery store that is on the first floor of the building where I work. There at the ATM machine near the front door was a guy wearing a kilt. It was predominately blue with a yellow and red pseudo-tartan pattern, matching blue t-shirt and some sort of Celtic-y looking medallion hanging around his neck. He also had a long, dirty blonde pony-tail in the back. The only thing that spoiled the picture was that he didn’t have the large, fuzzy and metallic belt-buckle that seems to be part of the uniform.

I really wanted to talk to him and see what his story was, but he got away before I had a chance. I am pretty sure he wasn’t Scottish as the look wasn’t quite right and I am fairly sure Scottish people wear jeans and such when they travel abroad. It is my understanding that such things are mostly for special occasions these days. I think he was probably Russian and just wanted to wear it for the stares and shock effect. Much like my sister when she used to get tattoos and burn herself to shock the rubes’ back in Georgia. Attention for its own sake, and trying to be weird and unique for the same reason. Most genuine weirdo’s and eccentrics are that way without having a clue that they are and don’t really care if anyone thinks of them that way.

Still I admire his bravery. In a country where skin-heads routinely kick to death anyone they feel doesn’t belong in Russia a guy wearing a skirt is a bold statement. Skin-heads are an anomaly in their own right. Wearing the symbols and mouthing the slogans of Hitler and the Nazis they forget that Hitler and the rest thought of Russians and all Slavic people as sub-human. Germans used to separate the Russian in the POW camps from the Americans and Brits so that they didn’t have to feed the Russians that they didn’t import back to Germany to use as slave labor.

He got away before I could talk to him, but I did get a photo of his retreating back. Hope he had a safe ride on the metro and maybe I’ll see him again one day.

The Sperm Test

Now this is not really about Russia per-se, just another one of those strange things that seem to happen to me all of the time.

My wife and I have been trying to have a baby for quite some time now. We have been married for almost 6 years and we have been trying the entire time for a baby. I already have a 13 year-old son from a previous marriage, but a lot can happen to a guys body in 13+ years so we decided that I should get a sperm test here in Moscow.
The clinic where we went was kind of odd to begin with. Inside it looked more like a funky, modern hotel than a fertility clinic. The walls were an odd combinations of greens and there were paintings everywhere of sort of vague, abstract faces and figures. It reminded me of a hotels I stayed in when I was in Prague and Kharkov, Ukraine that were decorated around an art theme.
When my wife called to make the appointment they gave her the impression that they would try to create some sort of romantic setting where she could help me with the process (so to speak). However, when they took us to the room it was just a standard medical office exam room with three normal exam tables and a sink. They also told my wife that there would be a selection of magazines and that sort of thing, which is normal in this situation. There was nothing of the sort here, just a room.

My wife, being the good wife that she is, offered to help me but I was already starting to feel a little freaked out by the situation and decided to try and go it alone. After a fruitless search in the cabinets for the non-existent magazines I started to get as undressed as I felt was necessary to ensure I didn’t go to work with any unfortunate stains on my clothes.

Just as I get undressed I can hear my wife talking sharply to someone and then the door handle starts to jiggle. Fortunately I had locked it or they would have come right in. I quickly pulled my pants back on and opened the door to see what was going on. My wife was alone, but I could see someone in a medical uniform a few doors away. She looked like the old nurse from Shallow Hal when all he can see it people’s inner-beauty, and she didn’t have any.

My wife told me that everything was OK so I closed the door and tried to get my head back into what I was supposed to be doing. It wasn’t easy, especially without any kind of visual or other stimulation to help. I had to use my imagination more that I probably have ever had to before. Anyway I finally completed my task, got dressed and left the room. My wife put the sample container in her purse and we made our way our way back upstairs to give it to the lab.

After we left, my wife told me that the old woman came straight to the door and tried to open it even though my wife was telling her that someone was there and she couldn’t go in. This was all in Russian so I missed most of it. The old woman replied that she was a doctor and she could go anywhere she wanted. This went back and forth for a minute or more that I could hear through the door. Elena (my wife) finally insisted that a man was doing a test in there and needed privacy. To this the old woman said that maybe I needed help and she could help me. This went on a bit more and finally the old woman gave up and went away. I think this must be something that happens a lot. She probably gets her jollies from walking in on guys trying to perform.

On the way back to the metro from the clinic we saw a bald-headed pigeon. It looked as if maybe teenagers had caught it, plucked the head bald and released it. Don’t know if this means anything, but it just seemed ominous considering the events just before in the clinic.

I will post a picture (of the pigeon, not from the clinic).