Kidnapped in Kiev

KIDNAPPED IN KIEV

A few years back, a friend of mine I went to college in Boulder with called me.
He'd call me every few months from his UES penthouse and kvetch how bored he was since getting forced out of Goldman Sachs with a $72 million dollar severance package. Poor bastard.

ALEXEI: Scotty, I want to show you where I grew up.

Me: Kiev? Yeah. Let's go sometime.

ALEXEI: Fuck sometime. Let's go Thursday.

Me: Dude, I can't just buy a last minute plane ticket to Ukraine.

ALEXEI: Shut up. Take down my credit card # & I'll see you there.

I arrive to our hotel, fucked from Jetlag in the middle of the night and walk to the front desk and hand the attendant my passport. I can never sleep on planes. Not even in a lie flat lit up on Scotch & Ambien

Welcome to Kyiv! I am Nikolai.

ME: Hey Nikolai

NIKOLAI: Amerikanski yes?

ME: Yeah.

NIKOLAI: What you want do while in Kyiv?

ME: Nikolai. Everything.

NIKOLAI: You want shoot cow with Soviet Bazooka?

ME: (laughing. I love this guy already) That's your opener?

NIKOLAI: Shtua?

ME: Nothing. While it would make an amazing YouTube video, I'm going to have to say nyet to that one.

NIKOLAI: You want shoot real Kalashnikov AK-47?

Is this guy my soulmate?

ME: Nikolai. I'm American. I have more guns personally than you have in this entire city.

NIKOLAI: Hokay. You want go to nice club tonight? VIP?

ME: Yeah. Sounds good. We'll be down at 9:30

NIKOLAI: Hokay. I will hyeav car ready. Do NOT take Taxi in Kyiv.

I tell Alexei when he arrives. We have the Presidential suite. It's so big, I couldn't throw a football across the living room. That'll do pig.

Waiting for us outside is the most gangster car the world has ever seen. It's a pearl white Maybach with gold rims, grille & door handles. Heavy bulletproof doors, limo tint and privacy curtains.

It's a short ride to the club behind the Opera House. The requisite suited thugs with the velvet rope are out front.

We walk in and it's an immediate letdown. A styrofoamy looking fake Etruscan statue spitting water under greenish fluorescent lighting. That and a sushi bar that seats 3. It looks more like a Warsaw Post Office than a cool club.

ME: (still grumpy from travel) Nikolai. What the fuck is this place?

NIKOLAI: Hokay. First floor Sushi. 2nd floor streep club. 3rd floor Casino. 4th floor streep club. 5 floor streep club. And comrade. Everything on table on 5th floor.

ME: Everything on table?

NIKOLAI: EVERYTHING on table.

It took me a couple of beats to process that one.

ME: Oh.. OK.

The rest of the place was actually pretty nice. We proceed to the 5th floor. Our personal goon seats us at center booth and we order a bottle of vodka and a caviar presentation. Y'know... when in Rome.

They bring out a lineup of girls, maybe 15 of them. I've spent half of my professional adult life looking at beautiful women in a casting room and on set. These were among the most arrestingly beautiful women I've ever seen. There were 2 basic types there. The classic Siberian. Porcelain skin. Ice blue eyes. White blonde hair & full, bee stung lips.

The other type was the classic Ukrainian brunette. Think Milla Jovovich on her 18th birthday. Asian features, few curves. Obvious fingerprints of Gengis Kahn's 37 year rapefest.

Anyway, we are just hammered and slogging through a kilo of likely counterfeit Beluga Caviar.

Finally my friend says to me...

ALEXEI: Hey. Would you judge me if ONE time in my life, I wanted to be with a woman other than my wife?

They had been together since they were teenagers.

ME: I am free of judgement. Do whatever you like, but if you're going to cheat, I implore you to make it memorable. In fact, I won't support it otherwise.

ALEXEI: Memorable how?

ME: 3 of them at a time. Minimum. Live like a Czar.

ALEXEI: What could I possibly do with 3 girls at once?

Without skipping a beat, I start rattling off a half dozen generic porn scenarios. He's incredulous.

ALEXEI: I’ve never thought of any of those things. I'll do two. You're good at talking to women. Will you set it up?

ME: Dude. I don't speak Russian or Ukrainian. You do.

ALEXEI: Cmon. Please?

I look down at his wallet on the table and ask...

ME: I'll try. May I?

ALEXEI: Take whatever you need.

I open his wallet to discover a very thick stack of 500 Euro notes.

ME: They make 500 Euro notes?

He laughs.

ME: OK. In your opinion, who are the two most beautiful women in this entire place?

Without pause... He points.

ALEXEI: Easy. Those two.

One green eyed brunette. Hair just past her shoulders. Good curling iron work. One ice blonde. The former curvy and petite. The latter, like a runway model. Tall, slim, small breasted. Ripped abs. Small hips. Greyhound.

Barely able to walk I approach them.

ME: Hello ladies!

Girls: Hyeloo!

ME: (Flashing 2 500 notes.) Um, would the two of you be willing to have sex with each other and my friend over there if I gave you each one of these?

Their eyes widen and then enthusiastically nod yes.

Still fried from Jetlag, I decide I'll hang back and keep drinking until I get tired. I send them back and ask them to send the hotel car back to wait for me. 45 minutes later, I’m bored & leave. Alex had booked a regular room in case one of us needed the big suite to themselves. Not wanting to interrupt their party, I went back to the regular room. Another 30 minutes had gone by and I started getting worried. Did he get kidnapped? Robbed? Do I knock on the door? Do I text him?

Just then, my phone rings and it's a FaceTime call from Alexei. I answer immediately.

He's on his back and he's holding the phone straight up in the air from bed smiling so broadly, he looks Chinese. On either side of him are the girls wearing fluffy white hotel robes and smoking the Cuban cigars I bought at Duty Free.

ME: Dude. Are you ok???

ALEXEI: Scotty!!!

ME: Dude. Are you ok?

ALEXEI: OK? Scotty! This is the single greatest moment of my entire LIFE!

ME: (laughing & sarcastically) What about the birth of your first child?

ALEXEI: That was pretty amazing. This is SO much better!!!

ME: Glad I could help.

ALEXEI: Come to the room.

ME: Eh. I don't want to rain on your parade.,

ALEXEI: I already fucked them twice. Come over!

I return to the big suite. It looks like a band trashed it. It stunk of spilled liquor and cigar smoke. Pretty much the whole room service menu had been ordered. A half eaten cheeseburger, a deceased shrimp cocktail, half an omelette and an empty bottle of Cristal upside down in the bucket.

They come out of the bedroom and we hung out & partied for a couple of hours. The sun is beginning to rise, I'm getting both sober and hungry.

ME: I'm going downstairs to hit the Sunday Brunch. Anyone?

ALEXEI: Should we ask the girls?

ME: Sure. Bring em.

They chat in Russian, get dressed and we head for the elevator.

As we enter the restaurant. It looks like any western high end hotel brunch.
A guy carving a roast beef, the penguin ice sculpture with peeled shrimp and oysters. The sushi guy... The usual.

I look at the girls. They look stunned. Frozen. Freaked out.

ME: Hey. Yulia. You ok?

Yulia: (Strong Russka accent) Soooo. How does thees work?

ME: I don't understand. How does what work?

Yulia: We take food and you pay for what we eat?

ME: Oh. No no. It's all you can eat.

YULIA: No. It ees impossible.

ME: What's impossible?

YULIA: I can eat as much sushi as I like? Have as many shrimp as I like?. Drink as much champagne as I like?

ME: Baby. Eat a fishing boat.

We sit down, then grab plates and head to the buffet. They are stacking their plates to an embarrassing height.

ME: (gesturing) You know. You can come back as many times as you like.

They looked embarrassed. I feel like a dick, but I'm trying to help.

JENYA: Oh. Hokay. Sank you.

We're eating, drinking and having a good time. As we're nearing the end of the meal, Jenya asks.

JENYA: Sooo You want historical tour of City? We are students at University.

ME: Oh yes! I would love that. I love history. Alexei?

They take us all over town. Explain the history of the city. The era when it was called Kievan rus. The Capitol of all of Russia. The war. Stalinist architecture, History of the Churches. Fascinating stuff. Smartest sex workers ever?

ALEXEI: Scotty. Let's take them shopping at the mall.

ME: Yeah. Sure. Your money.

We go to the mall and Alexei hooks them up. He buys them both iPads. Then buys Yulia a Louis Vuitton dog carrier (She's blonde, has a Chihuahua and is a huge Paris Hilton fan. We call her Paris for the rest of the day). Jenya goes for a classic Navy Chanel quilted bag. Timeless, solid choices. We part ways.

DAY 2.

We're sightseeing & covering a lot of ground. We hired an actual tour guide to take us around. It was a hot sunny day. We walked and took a lot of Taxis. I told Alexei what Nikolai said about never taking Taxis. He scoffed and said "YOU DON"T TAKE TAXIS. I DO".

A friend of mine who is an advertising executive saw my Facebook and where I am and offers to tee up a meeting at their local outpost in Kiev. It was nice of him, but it turned out to be kind of a bust. The vast majority of this offices work was taking art work from the states or Western Europe and slapping Ukrainian translations of slogans. They offered me a job, but it would have been a month out and break even at best. Kind of like shooting celebrities.

I'm walking back to the hotel. Uphill. Hot day.

Kiev from what I could tell was all about altitude. All the good shit was on their Mulholland Drive. As you descended down the hill, it looked less desirable. At the bottom of the hill was the Dnieper River and that area looked like shit. Kind of like Hollywood Boulevard, but a different, more desolate kind of shit.

The ad agency was a bit downhill from the hotel, but not so much so. Either way, I was hot, hungover and tired and decided to take a Taxi. It was less than a 10 minute drive.

I get in the car and tell him the hotel. He turns around, sizes me up and the first words out of his mouth were...

CAB DRIVER: Real Rolex?

ME: Oh. This? No! Fake. Canal Street. New York City.

This guy is not buying it. At all. Like he even knows what the fuck Canal Street is.

He continues driving. After a few minutes I notice we're going down the hill. Maybe he's taking a shortcut???

ME: Hey. Comrade go back up.

Cab Driver: Turns and points at me. SIT!

ME: Stop the fucking car!

He starts driving faster down the hill. Coasting through stop signs and lights.

Finally, we're on the banks of the Dniepr. Shithole, graffiti. Perfect place to dump a body.

Then he gets on the freeway headed out of town. We're in a Lada. A piece of shit Soviet tin can of a car. It was based on a Fiat 124, but wasn't half the car the Fiat was (which was a huge Italian pile of shit).

We're going faster & faster and the car feels like it's going to fall apart at speed. Now I'm panicking. Will he just take my watch & my phone and ditch me? Will it be ransom? Will he sell me to the mob? Kill me? I’m not a worrier, but I’m fucking worried.

I need a plan and I need it fast. I'm looking around to try and make eye contact with anyone. Then, out the windshield, I notice a police car ahead and immediately think "There's no way this guy is going to pass a police car speeding". But alas, he does. The moment we pass the cop car, I roll down my window. Throw the floor mats out the window, followed by the stack of magazines and books on the rear window ledge. The cop immediately pulls us over. Thank God!

I'm freaking out.

ME: Officer. This motherfucker tried to kidnap me!!!

Cop listens, but doesn't seem to care. He's examining the guys driver’s license who looks impatient. Cab driver won’t even look at me.

ME: To cop. Excuse me. Sir?

He walks away. Ignored again.

Finally, the driver's patience had run out and bizarrely, he snatches his license back from the cops hand and starts walking back to his car. Cop body slams him and cuffs him. Everything is in slow motion. The driver is sitting on the curb cuffed. Cop still talking on his radio.

I'm still boiling over with adrenaline.

ME: Um officer. This man tried to kidnap me.

Cop: Amerikanski?

ME: Da

Cop: Why you take Taxi in Kyiv?

ME: I know. My hotel told me not to, but..

Cop. You are stupid idiot.

ME: (taking it). I know. Can you please give me a ride back to the hotel?

Cop: Nyet. You are imbecile. You walk back. Learn lesson.

Is this guy for real?

ME: Can you please call my hotel and tell them where I am so they can pick me up?

Cop: Nyet. You walk back. You are stupid man.

The guy gets arrested and they leave me on the side of the highway. I didn't have a local sim card so I start taking the heel and toe express back down the highway and up the mountain. It’s 4 miles easy up a steep hill. Over 80 degrees and I’m hungover and dehydrated.

After 45 minutes. I need water and rest. I see a restaurant with a mural of Che Guevara on the side. It's a cigar bar. I buy a cigar in the hope of getting some help.

ME: (to waitress) Wifi? (pronounced weefee everywhere but here)

Her english is minimal. She logs me onto the wifi. I write a note in Google translate and explain what happened. She calls the hotel for me from the bar phone. It's Nikolai. I explain briefly what happened.

NICOLAI: Mr. Scott. I TELL you not take Taxi in Kyiv. You are stupid idiot!

If ONE more person calls me that today...

ME: I know! Can you please come pick me up?

NIKOLAI. Your friend very worried. I connect.

ME: Wait! No!

ALEXEI: Scotty, where the fuck have you been?

ME: I took a taxi and got briefly kidnapped. No big deal.

ALEXEI: Idiot. I told you not to...

ME: Dude. DON'T. I'll see you soon.

And scene..