A squat little white-haired man came into Boheme today. Well, no, actually; he didn’t come into Boheme. He just lingered in the doorway, turning his torso this way and that, unwilling to commit to staying or leaving.
MB was with me and greeted the man, all smiles, nicey-nice, inviting him in. Instead, the man just opened his yap into a giant black O, flopped his arms about wildly and started ranting words that I think were mostly Russian. Sounds spilled out occasionally that seemed sorta like English. Mostly, though, it was all just very raging and Siberian and LOUD.
Poor MB just stood there, staring, trying to make sense of what the man was saying, just assuming there was sense in it, which is why he’s such a good person. I, on the other hand, hunkered uselessly behind the espresso machine, absorbing this whole theatre and laughing, which is why I’m really not.
Next, in a tone so polite, so solicitous, that I nearly peed my pants, MB offered a translation to our chubby Boris, “So you want some coffee; is that it?”
Boris stopped, processed, then:
“NO! NO! BAD CAFE! NO CAFE! AMERICA BAD CAFE! RUSSIA NO CAFE!”
All riiighty. So no coffee, then.
“Would you like some tea instead?”
“NO! SLBOBO VISHNINOVA!! (or something like that) NO TEA! STOMACH!! RAJNAVOICEK RAGNARAD!!”
Okaaaay, dude. Calm thyself.
I stood up to take a peek. He pointed at me.
“DIS YOUR VIFE??”
“Yes,” replied MB.
“GUD. GUD. AMERICA, MAN VERK, WOMAN VERK. RUSSIA, NO ONE VERK!! POISHYBLENKO NUVAKOVNIK!”
“Okay.”
“CHUCHNOBLADA YAGUDIN POTEMKIN!!”
“Okay. Well, thanks for coming in.”
“AMERICA BAD!! RUSSIA BAD!! SHALIMOVA POPSYPUNIK!!”
“Great! Have a good day!”
And off he went, floppy-armed ranting his way down the street.
Maybe it was the ghost of Boris Yeltsin, taking a tour around the globe before he departs for wherever he’s supposed to go.
I think I read about the Poishyblenko/Nuvakovnik chess match sometime in HS. It revolutionized Petroff’s Defence in the 19th century.
[CHUCHNOBLADA YAGUDIN POTEMKIN]
You’re killin’ me.
“no tea, stomach!”
Maybe he was playing an elaborate, “No soap, radio” with you? Were there other people in the area? Did they laugh?
actually, that sounded more Novgorodian than Siberian. but your Russian is grand.
hahahaha, you get the best characters at Boheme.
I think you handled your first undercover reviewer very well! 🙂
//GUD. GUD. AMERICA, MAN VERK, WOMAN VERK. RUSSIA, NO ONE VERK!! POISHYBLENKO NUVAKOVNIK//
I love this man.
I know! He just could not stop raving! Hahahaha!