I was going down from 14 fl; a guy stepped in from the 7th. Hastily buttoning his fur-collar coat, he said Hello, I nodded Hi, howR’ya.
To my surprise, he replied with a list of grievances: his kids, his flu, his headache at work, and most importantly, he is in very low spirits awaiting the upcoming doom on the 20th.
-What’s happening on the 20th?
-Why, that clown of a traitor of a tyrant is coming to the Oval Office!
-Oh, that’s OK, I don’t think it’s going to be such a disaster the press is making it out to be. Don’t lose sleep over that.
[picture his face. ritzy downtown building, every apartment cost $few mil, a stronghold of bleeding heart nomenklatura parasites – and suddenly …a Trump apologist! at his threshold! why, one can’t feel safe anywhere anymore!]
-You think? Obviously, we don’t see eye to eye on that.
Silence fell while elevator went from 3rd to 2nd. Then he suddenly asked:
You have an accent – is it Russian?