Delivery Tales: Dirty Dancing And Russians

It was a long and slow Saturday night. Things weren’t happening at all until about 1 AM which is when our late nights start, if they’re going to. Coupled with yet another snow storm, business picked up from nothing to full onslaught in a matter of minutes. Everything was going well until my first incident of the night.

There’s this guy who orders all the time. He lives in a nicer apartment complex and it seems that either me or our one female driver, Angela, gets his orders. We’ve discussed many times whether he was gay or just metrosexual. He’s in his late thirties or more likely his early forties, always dresses nice and is always cleaned up nice. He always smells good and he talks with a gay tone. Angela tells me when she delivers to him at his place, which is a townhouse, that he’ll step outside and shut his door behind him. She’s also delivered to him all over the complex at many different apartments, townhouses and the clubhouse, and he’s always partying. When I deliver to him it has always been to his place and he always invites me in. That’s why I think he’s gay and not just a metrosexual. He’s always nice, ALWAYS drunk or otherwise fucked up and he always tips very well, like $10 minimum.

The last time I was at his place he invited me in and there was a younger guy sitting on his couch and he looked completely out of place. The customer, as always, was dressed up real nice. The younger guy on the couch was thugged out, ball cap on backwards but to the side a bit, big heavy coat on, spoke with a white thug accent. The guy on the couch asked me if I wanted to do any drugs. I declined.

Well tonight I had to call because I had two bits of info on the order. His address and a note saying to go to the clubhouse, which has a different address. A girl answered and I heard music in the background, so I figured it was the clubhouse. She told me it was the townhouse, so that’s where I went.

When I got to the door I heard the music, loud R&B/Hip Hop, and I heard a few people talking loudly and laughing. When I knocked, a guy answered the door, maybe early twenty-something. In the back of the place I could see the regular customer guy talking with another guy and neither bothered to look my way. Behind the guy who answered the door, in the middle of the living room floor, were two early twenty-something girls dancing to the music. A brunette was standing with her legs spread and she was bent over at the waist with her hands on the floor in front of her, ass sticking up, while a blonde was standing behind her, hands on the brunettes hips and griding her ass, as if she were fucking her. They both looked up at me. I smiled at them, kind of laughed and directed my attention to the guy in front of me who seemed to be sober.

I told him the price of the order, $19, and he handed me two twenties and said he needed change. The brunette behind him stood up, never taking her eyes from me, and walked up behind the guy I was dealing with. She wedged herself between him and the door frame and began grinding on him, still not taking her eyes from me. She had a serious look on her face and appeared to be intoxicated on something.

At one point he kind of laughed and told her to get back, but she persisted. As I was trying to find change for a twenty, she then took her finger and began lightly scratching under my chin. I just smiled, but I kept looking through my money to find adequate change.

He finally got her to move, but she went to his other side and again wedged herself between him and the door frame and continued to grind on him. I found a ten and a five dollar bill and handed them to him and began looking for another five. She once again took her finger and lightly scratched under my chin. I smiled again and looked up and she was singing along to the song playing loudly in the background, still focused completely on me.

He handed me back the five I gave to him and I said he had more change coming and he said to keep it. I thanked him and then he told me to have a good night. I said I figured he would probably have a better night than me. He laughed while she moved behind him and wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his chest with both hands, and then pulling him back into the townhouse. Nice. And before anyone asks, yes, she was attractive. So was the blonde.

Things were relatively normal after that until the end of the night. The snow was almost stopped and I had one last order going to another apartment complex. When I got there I noticed the address was wrong on the order. It said I had to find building 3, but there are no buildings with that number. The buildings are all numbered in the hundreds starting with 100 and going up to somewhere around 4000. Since I had never actually been around the entire complex I thought maybe there was a 3 somewhere, so I drove around the entire complex. When I got to the very back and realized there wasn’t a 3, I got my phone out to call the customer. It was then that I noticed a minivan ahead of me having trouble pulling out of a parking space. At this point there was already a few inches of ice all over the ground covered up by a few inches of snow, the top layer of which had just fallen.

I immediately got the customers voice mail and it was full, so I couldn’t leave a message. I hung up my phone and began to drive towards the minivan so that I could head back to the exit of the complex. I saw a man had walked around from the driver side to the passenger side, which was facing me, and he had the passenger door open and was leaning in. I drove past them and my phone rang. It was the customer.

It turned out I was really close, so I drove back around, dealt with the customer and then began heading out. Because I had circled around I had to go back by the minivan, and so I figured if they were still stuck I would offer to help push them out.

I forgot it was almost 4 AM on a Sunday morning. I was also quickly reminded why I shouldn’t ever offer to help anybody.

I pulled up behind the parked cars alongside the minivan, about 4 or 5 cars away from them and parked, my headlights focused on them. When I opened my door the man leaning in through the open passenger door looked around at me and then back into the van. I called out, asking if I could help.

Oh shit.

The man spun around and stood up. He was an attractive man and very well dressed. He was also much bigger than me at about 6’4″. He began walking towards me and then he spoke and I found out he was Russian and drunk. Most likely on Vodka.

Russian tap water.

Russian tap water.

“Yes, you can help me. My wife won’t go into our flat and I need help getting her there.”

That’s when she got out of the passenger seat. She was very attractive as well, only as tall as me (about 5’10”) and all dolled up. They had obviously been out for the night partying. And most likely drinking Vodka.

In Russia, it actually snows vodka. Most people don't know that.

In Russia, it actually snows vodka. Most people don’t know that.

She said in her Russian accent that matched his, “Yes, you can help. Can you call the police?”

My eyes grew wide. What the fuck did I just get myself into? They were both walking towards me and she pushed past him to get to me first. Then he said, “She is very drunk. Can you help me get her inside?”

Now at me and trying to get herself positioned so that I was between them, she said, “Yes, I AM drunk. Call the police. No, call my EX HUSBAND!”

The man said, “Do not call the police. We do not need to get them involved.” At this point I agreed. I’ve been with some psycho bitches before in my time and the last thing I needed was police involvement. But I had already gotten my phone out of the car when she first said to call the police and I had it in my hand.

Now, I have my door open and I’m standing between it and my car. She’s standing to my left leaning up against my car and he’s standing just on the other side of my door, towering over the both of us.

They began to argue to each other in Russian and then in English, which they spoke very well. At one point he said something about the kids in the car and pointed to the van. That’s when I heard it. Both the drivers door and the passenger door were wide open, letting all of the cold air into the van, and out from the van I heard crying. They weren’t just kids, they were babies.

Most likely drunk on vodka.

Most likely drunk on vodka.

That’s when I thought maybe the police should be called. But holy shit, I wasn’t going to call them with a 6’4″ angry drunk Russian standing in front of me.

He continued to ask for my help. He wanted ME to get his wife into their apartment so he could get the kids out and into the apartment. I just looked from her to him with my jaw dropped and my eyes wide. Seriously dude? If YOU can’t get her into the apartment, I’m not going to attempt to get an angry drunk Russian chick into the apartment. I’m positive she not only had an AK-47, but knew how to use it.

This is probably exactly how it would've went down.

This is probably exactly how it would’ve went down.

They continued to argue and I was just froze in place, wondering if I was really in this fucking situation or if I was being Punk’d. Finally he had enough and grabbed her by the arm and began dragging her towards their building. She was fighting him the whole way. When they got halfway up the walkway I realized I had my keys in my hand because at one point I literally thought I was going to help her get to her apartment and I turned my car off.

They stopped halfway up the walk and began arguing again, screaming at each other in English and Russian. Lights were coming on in various apartment windows and I thought it wouldn’t be long before the cops showed up anyway. That’s when I realized I didn’t have to be there at all and unfroze myself. I dove into my car, started it up and took off, just barely remembering to shut my door as I drove away. Neither of them bothered to notice I was leaving.

I drove the twenty minutes back to my work in a state of shock. Only I could locate two angry drunk Russians at 4 AM on a Sunday morning in Loveland, OH… and stick my nose in their business.

4 responses to “Delivery Tales: Dirty Dancing And Russians

  1. The freaks do come out at night. I hope someone did call the cops…those poor babies. Good that you made it out alive.

  2. Gotta love people….oy.

  3. WOW, what a night!
    Also, I don’t know why, but I thought you were well over 6 foot….
    Those poor, cold babies!

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