Worn Out

In Russia, most undergraduate students live in dorms. Ask anyone who has lived in a dorm when he/she was a student, and they’ll tell you how crazy life can be. Late nights, stayovers, piles of books on your bed, conversations over coffee, fights, parties. It’s a crazy life! When I was in my final year undergrad, I took maximum advantage of my free time by spending it with friends and visiting places in St.Petersburg that I hadn’t seen before.

Sometime in December 2006, after having dinner with a friend, I decided to stay over at her place (don't get any ideas). We both had to go to church the next morning, and my place was a forty minute commute from hers, so staying over made sense as it was almost midnight. Her hostel was very strict about letting people stay over, so we had to get special permission from the person in-charge, the kommendant. The guards just wouldn’t let me in. She went into the kommendant’s office, while I stood outside, waiting in anticipation. I was too tired to go home and it was too late. When she came out, I was told that he had granted permission, but he would be visiting her room in an hour, just to check. I was relieved, if anything.

As we made ourselves comfortable at her place, she got an idea. As I didn’t have a washing machine at my place, she suggested that I change my clothes, put them in the washing machine at her place, and wear the clean clothes in the morning. I had my doubts about the dryer, she didn’t have any masculine clothes except a t-shirt and shorts. After her assurances, I changed and put the clothes for wash. We then began watching a short video of her sister’s wedding. Someone knocked at the door at around 12.30am. It was the kommendant, just as he had promised.

“I’m sorry”, he said, “but I don’t think you’re friend can spend the night. My superiors will be coming tomorrow morning and they will question me about this.”

“It’s so late”, she protested, “he lives way across the city. How can he go home now?”

“The last train is at 1am. He can easily make it. I can’t let him stay, bottom line. Goodnight!”

At such a point many things could have popped into my head. Would I reach home on time? Would I reach home safe? What if I don’t reach before my hostel main door is locked?

But the only thought that washed those away, obviously, was “My clothes!!!”

I was speechless for a minute, thinking how I would survive in minus ten degrees celsius with shorts. All I had was my underwear (luckily), my shoes and my winter jacket. Quite an interesting situation, don’t you think? There was no option, we raided madam’s cupboard to find some decent-enough clothing, while we cursed the kommendant for his time-keeping. The winners were a long-sleeved t-shirt which looked like something a boy could wear, a dark blue jean pant which only came upto my ankles (looked like a bloody three-fourth denim pant) and a pair of white socks (or should I say mini-socks).

I was aware that I didn’t have time. If I would miss the last train, I would either have to walk home (which would take at least an hour) or I would look like a cross-dressing beggar on the streets of St.Petersburg. Hence, I didn’t protest about the clothing.

All I said as I left was, “See you in church tomorrow”

And all she said was, “Please wear something different”

Yes, the woman had a sense of humour and so did the hundreds of people who walked by me on my way to the underground metro station. I got more attention than the hot girl with a short skirt and high heels standing with a cigarette in her hand by the curb. The train driver, too, noticed me standing at the platform while the train approached. I was so baffled that I thought I heard him say, “The doors are closing. Please be careful. Next stop – Vladimirskaya. What the hell was the guy who entered the train wearing?”

Well, I reached in time at my hostel. Luckily for me, very luckily indeed, there were six more guys in my room including my roommate. They were watching a movie. When I entered, they were in awe. One guy didn’t notice a thing, some were laughing, one of them said, “what kind of socks are those?” and another even said, “Damn, I need to try this.”