Abducted by A Russian Boy band (Part 2) Landing in Moscow

At this point in my life I had three distinct circles of "advisors." One, of course, was the Agency I had been with for about two years and, more specifically, the aforementioned Agent within the Agency who clearly understood me as an opportunistic adventurist with the kind of drive that can be dangerous if not well directed, but always the guy with an interesting story at then end of it all. The two other circles were my work associates/friends (bartenders and regular clients/drinkers), and my family. My work associates seemed divided. Some saw this as an opportunity I couldn't miss and some saw it as insanity - after all the news was constantly flashing headlines around this time of Americans being killed in the crossfire of the Russian (Red) Mafia squabbles; like a major NHL agent for example - who happened to have been a colleague of my acting class partner's husband. Bill Cosby's son had just been murdered as well, though that was here in the States. My acting class partner, Nancy, begged me not to go. My family too was divided including my then girlfriend who, yet again, faced the possibility of me canceling another pre-planned vacation, and potentially a summer without me. My Mother and Father however both suggested I go for it surprisingly - even though the State Department had stark warnings all over the passport office (I figured I'd update the passport just in case). Hmmmm. A week had gone by with my Agent dutifully entertaining the ludicrous ovations from the mysterious producers that kept calling to "negotiate" and, to my understanding they were almost never the same person making the calls - varying between the French woman and two different thick accented men distinguishable only by their propensity to get very angry (one would warm up to it, the other apparently had a light switch temper) The one common denominator was the insistence by all of them on doing a "Friendly deal" based on their "word" and a "handshake" (I assumed virtual since I hadn't met either man, only "Frenchie"), the insistence that everything was extremly urgent and needed to happen "yesterday" (i.e. me fly out to Russia...indefinitely), and the not-so-ironic fact that the three mystery people all had very different ideas of what the "Facts" were when it came to this "good-faith" deal. I was, by this point, also very entertained by my Agent's absolute incredulity with it all, and I refused to let him let the "deal" die if only for the entertainment value to me - after all HE didn't have to take his shirt off and dance! By no means was there any indication that this was a well organized situation with people who were adept (or interested) in making legitimate deals - at least the way we understand them in the United States! The more my agent pleaded with me to turn this down, thereby letting him off the hook with the ridiculous negotiation, the more entertained and intrigued I became. And then there was Soap Opera Guy who at the eleventh hour seemed to be getting an offer to go to Russia to meet the band with or without me and had already said yes to ALL of their terms. On the one hand, if he really was to be my understudy or "backup choice" like they said he was - then the pressure was off me if I did go and then walked away since they wouldn't be left high and dry. On the other hand, this guy would probably see me as competition considering his eagerness to "get the job" and, if so, be out to make my experience rather unpleasant. So it was a week and a half later that I realized I had to put up or shut up and I had a real existential moment with myself sitting on a park bench outside the Agency. I realized I was primarily a bartender right now. I knew that for better or worse, this would be an adventure and a paid-for trip to Russia to boot. I had at least learned by now that this band was legit (at least big in Russia), and most importantly I had pre-defined myself in my own eyes, my friends eyes, and certainly the agency's eyes, as the "Guy who does things rather than talk about them." I had to go. I had 3 days to pack and I would be leaving July 4th, 1997. I wasn't quite sure yet if the date would prove to be an omen, but the possibility wasn't lost on me either. July 4th I showed up to JFK airport with a suitcase packed with all the metro-sexual clothes I could buy ahead of time (I WAS joining a boyband after all) and about 4 cartons of cigarettes (I didn't smoke but someone had told me that American smokes were like gold in Russia). I also had a secret zipper waistband pouch I wore just on top of my underwear containing the Moscow American Consulate's telephone number and address, a photocopy of my passport, and five one hundred dollar bills. Waiting for me at the airport lounge bar was Soap Opera Guy dressed to the nines wearing rock star sunglasses (Indoors) and toting a video camera. Yep this was already interesting. If you've never had the pleasure of flying AeroFlot in the late nineties, then you'll never know the awesome experience of sitting among a smoke filled plane in seats that hadn't been re-upholstered since the plane was born in the early 40's and with pilots who chain smoked cigarettes with the cabin door open begging the question of whether they could possibly see the gauges necessary to fly. I settled into my seat and began drinking heavily, not because I was particularly frightened, or even uneasy actually, but because that was what EVERYONE around me was doing and I was intent on experiencing Russia as authentically as I could. I guesstimate on the 11 hour flight that I must have also second-hand-smoked at least a carton of cigarettes as well. Needless to say, when I rolled off the plane half way across the world smelling like low-tide, and half smashed out of my mind, I was in no condition to work, and I didn't expect to. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Something strange also had happened on the plane as well. Somewhere over the Atlantic, Soap Guy (a New Jersey native I believe) had adopted a full blown Euro-Russian Accent) and would no longer speak like a native American. At first I thought he was kidding, then I considered I was just drunk, but when I asked him what was up with the accent and he refused to admit (WHILE STILL SPEAKING WITH IT) that he was affecting one - I knew I was REALLY in for an interesting trip. But I had a larger consideration ahead of me and Soap Guy and I did our best to make ourselves seem respectable when Frenchie met us at the airport. For the 45 minute or so ride we asked as many questions as we could and along the way learned that we would NOT be staying in any hotel as our agents had assured us we would. Instead, we learned we would be living in the Band's building with the band, and we would be doing a photo shoot in Red Square that afternoon (it was only 9am) after a dance rehearsal. It's funny what you are capable of doing when you realize you have no choice. I can't say I was totally clear-headed meeting the band for the first time an hour later, but after the cold shower (Hot water only worked from 7am-8am in this building) and after the dance rehearsal, directed entirely in Russian (I don't speak Russian), I was 100% clear headed by the time we did the photo shoot - even if my bloodshot eyes betrayed it! The last thing I can say about my experience up to this point was that only 5 hours into the trip our contract, which stipulated simply meeting the band and being observers for a week and then returning home before making any real decisions, was already being violated point by point. Hotel - nope. No shooting of any promotional material - Red square shoot only 5 hours after landing to promote a concert tour we were NOT supposed to be participating in - because...they hadn't agreed to pay us for more than that! This was the first indication that I was not in "Kansas" anymore and I could no longer count on anything that had actually had been settled in our -now useless- contract. I was on my own and Soap Guy was my only link to reality as I knew it and that was unsettling at best. My next order of business was to get to a phone... It would be three more days before that was possible. But, I was having the adventure of a lifetime and there is no doubt that I was going to enjoy the experience I had going while I had it! To Be Continued....