I am walking home with three friends and a man walks up to us and asks -- In English -- if we are speaking English. Dan, the only guy in the group replies, "yes, we're Americans."
"You are in Russia; do you like Russians?"
"Yes."
"I am a Russian man, and I believe I can encompass the Russian spirit and the Russian soul all by myself. Here is a poem I wrote myself:
Why does the Russian drink?
So that he can stop the thinking,
Because if he were to start thinking,
He would never cease the drinking.
Do you like my poem? Have a good day."
And then the Russian man runs off in another direction. My friends and I look around at each other and decide we are pretty sure the man was sober at the moment of his recital. We also conclude none of us have been pick pocketed during our brief encounter.
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