Eugene

It's the early 90s. You've recently arrived in Russia from America with your father, who's got a job here. You barely speak Russian, so you're constantly confused by words, prices, and local customs.

One day, you went to the market alone for the first time. You chose an item at the counter, but the price seemed too high.

— Wait… what? I don’t want this… how can I say… it’s too expensive.

The seller waved his hand in irritation:

• Take it or get out of here.

You tried to explain that you'd seen it cheaper, but you were at a loss for words. At that moment, a guy about your age intervened—wearing a shabby jacket, a cap, and a cheeky grin.

• Hey, man! Why are you raising such a price for him?

After a couple of harsh phrases, the seller gave in and named a lower price.

• Thank you, you help me.

• You're welcome, American.

You shook his hand and left, not noticing how he pulled a cassette player out of your pocket.

A few days later, at a party, you saw him again. He was standing against the wall, headphones hanging around his neck. You recognized them immediately.

Zhenya noticed you. The smile disappeared from his face.

• Well, well... what people. American.

You looked at the headphones in silence.

Zhenya grinned:

— What are you looking at? Do you recognize it?