andre has a gun...

…in fact, now i look carefully, he has two guns. they are handguns and he keeps them in the glove compartment. luckily, andre and me have an understanding: he won’t shoot me as long as i pay for my ride in his cab and don’t mention the fact that he is the worst driver in siberia. or the fact that he had to stop several times before he found where i lived. i don’t blame him for this because i don’t know where i live either. people ask me and i say я не знаю – i don’t know. this is unfortunate because one of the few topics i have mastered in russian is giving directions. people seem to know this because i have been stopped several times in the street by people asking me for directions. i don’t know if they are armed or not but andre is and he knows where i live now, which is more than i do. he is ecstatic that i don’t mind he is overcharging me by 50 roubles and almost swoons when i give him a 10 rouble tip. this is when he opens the glove box and gives me his card, writing his name and personal number down so that i can call him direct, like we are friends. i imagine him ringing me:
- hey sputnik, want to come play wild west?
- love to andre, but i’m fresh out of semi-automatic pistols.
- that’s ok sputnik, i have two: one for me and one for you.
- great, can we use hollow points this time?
- for sure, who will stop us?