Gays in Moscow Part 4

First Morning at Charlemagne’s

At four AM, I hear an 800-ruble eructation coming from the toilet right next to my door. I went to bed at a decent hour, about 11, but slept poorly. I wait for him to flush, hoping it all went down, get out of my bag, put on some shorts and a shirt, and go to the toilet myself. Charlemagne, already chipper and alert, is spooning soft cat food into a bowl for Juju. The twenty-one bowls of dry food are just for show! I go back to my sleeping bag, but can hear him murmuring to himself while he takes a bath and I lay with aching eyes until 530. By 615 we’re both outside in the freezing cold. The bus stops are all vacant- instead there are clumps of people walking on the sidewalks towards the marshrutkas so they can get in slightly before the others and not have to ride in a full bus. As a result of everyone moving though, it’s a zero-sum game.

As we’re riding, traffic is already picking up and sometimes the driver zooms onto the edge of the road to get past a bottleneck. When we arrive at metro Vyhino, there is a huge clod of humanity marching lockstep through the doors on the platform in a pace forced by everyone else at the same time. When the first train arrives, everyone surges forward as much as it is possible to; we wait for the second train so we have a place to sit, and when the doors open me and Charlemagne are shoulder to shoulder with a third passenger, creating an immobile plug in the doorway. The people behind us create tremendous pressure, though, until abruptly we break forward into the wagon, staggering and laughing, and snatch up our seats. I arrive one hour early for work, as predicted. Charlemagne has another forty minutes to ride- our school has a monopoly on his time, and even though makes them a huge profit and accepts a lower salary, they give him the worst schedule. It’s his fault for accepting it.