I'm leaving the office. It's 19:10 and it has been a long day. I walk to my car. It's snowing hard. The wind is hell. It whiplashes icy snowflakes against my face. A bitch. This is the worst part about St. Petersburg. Windy and cold winters. The snow turns everyone into stumbling hobbits and matryoshkas.
I want to get home. Fast. But of course, it's impossible. The roads are blocked with assholes sledding in slush. I jump into my car and rev it loudly. I don't care about the loud sound, it's good for everyone to know that Petr is coming. I switch on the headlights. And immediately hear a knock on the window of the right door. I have not yet cleared the snow from the car, so I cannot see who dares to knock against the window. I must get up to see who it is. My shiny black leather boots hit the snow and I erect myself to yell several blyat shouts at the pideras that knocked on the window. I turn towards the knocker and get immediately annoyed. It causes my testicles to clench. It's Dima the mother fucker. I cannot believe it!
Dima: "Petr, it is against the company's policy to make such a loud sound with your car. It makes people scared. I order you to stop doing it immediately. As THE Director of Office Management, I will write a report that on this day, you raised the decibel levels in the parking lot above 87. It's a rule, you know. It is in place because of my initiative, which I made to the Workplace Performance Committee five months ago. The committee deliberated the question thoroughly for two months, because of its importance. And after three revisions they approved it. I must say…"
I thought this was going to be a quick exchange, but I guess not. I have to deal with this yellow ant prick. He is rattling and rattling. I start moving towards him around my car. The snow is already deep, at least 30 centimeters. I make big awkward steps, trying to avoid the snow going into my boots. But I fail. "Goddammit!" I feel the coldness and immediate wetness through the socks. This fucking fuck-face will now get it! With three more steps, I get near him. I'm very furious. He has been yapping this whole time.
Dima: "I must say that these kinds of regulations and rules are what keep this company running smoothly. It's MY job that ensures that, do you understand Petr? My job!"
I get close to him. Russian men don't have much personal space, but I make sure to be close enough that whatever personal space he has, it's violated. I'm 20 centimeters from him. We are the same height, so our faces see directly eye to eye. My closeness flusters him. He is confused and does not know what to say. I clearly breach the norms of respect between Directors and Managers. He is dumbfounded by my rudeness and cannot come with appropriate words. "Dima…" I say quietly. "It's no longer working hours. You are no longer a Director. I am no longer a Manager. Do you understand? Right here, on this parking lot, you are a man and I'm a man." A dull orange light glowed above from the street lamp. The snow made both of us squint and tuck our heads deep into the jackets like turtles. The scene was straight from the Max Payne movie. I felt intensity rising and adrenaline was pumping in my veins.
Dima was trying to find words to counter: "Petr, this is… How can you… Petr…"
"I see you knocked on my car. Why did you do that, Dima? Why did you knock on my car? Cannot you see that that is rude? If you come knocking on my car, where should I knock on you? Should I knock you in the spleen?" Dima was getting more confused. Normal person would have gotten a bit scared. But he is too dumb to get to that emotion this quickly. His mind is still traveling in the fog. I move forward towards him. There is no space between us. To not fall, Dima has to take a step back. And he tries, but there is now so much snow that it's difficult. He moves his other leg and still cannot find his balance. He stumbles backward, his back hits the snow, his suitcase falls from his hand. Now Dima gets angry and starts struggling himself up.
Dima: "Petr Vladimirovich! This is outrageous. Do you understand what you have done? This will not be forgotten!"
I still move towards him. My legs are spread shoulder width and I basically cover his knees with my body. He sees my shiny black boots. He sees the power of my thick thighs. Even men cannot overlook them. At least when looking from the ground up. It's now clear who is the boss - it's the one whose ass is NOT in the snow.
"No!" I say. "It's already forgotten. This never happened." I point with my finger into his face as he tries to get back up. "This has already been forgotten. You never knocked on my car window and this never happened. Do you understand, Dima?"
I stand for while on top of him, still legs wide. Adrenaline has pumped them and they are swollen. Dima does not know what to say. To me, that is enough.
I turn around and walk around my car and jump in the driver's seat. My socks are completely wet. But it's okay. It was worth it. Dima better know his place now. Or I will come knocking. Hahaha.
Chapter 7: Hard Knocks in the Snow