Never Trust a Babushka

Something happened to me the other day that has affected my faith in humanity.  An evil monstrous being sent from the depths of Hell, sprang forth from the loins of Satan himself, to steal 500 roubles from me.  It looked like this.

(Just look at her beady little eyes...)

That's right, I was swindled by a babushka.  My woes started off with a trip to the Museum of Natural History on Red Square.  Robert (my roommate) and I were running late because of a decision to stop and get something to eat before we left, allotting us no time to return to our dorm to get my metro pass.  I only had 4 trips left on it anyway so I figured I'd just buy another at the station and use the one in my dorm at a later date.  And then I met Hell Incarnate.

Now, before you judge me on my rather harsh depiction of this elderly woman, I feel you should view what I would call a babushka brawl.  Warning: this may be disturbing to younger viewers.

Now do you believe me?  Something about the cold Russian winters hardens some of these women into an impenetrable cages of pent up rage and spite.  Now that you know where I am coming from, I shall continue.

She was sitting in the ticket booth glaring through 3 inches of plexiglass at me like an anaconda in a cage, sizing me up.

"Zdrasvui," she hissed.

"Zdrastvuite.  Daite 10 poshalusta." (Meaning give me 10)  I didn't know the word for "trips".

She spat out something incomprehensible, I assume she was insulting my mother's character.
I repeated my last phrase and handed her 500 roubles (about 16 dollars).

She looked at me and then handed me a metro pass and 22 roubles in change.  Here is where I should have been suspicious, but I had trust that this little babushka had my best interests at heart.  I saw 28,00 on the receipt and though that she had given me a month pass or something.

"Das vedanya," she spouted while ushering the next person to the counter.

Robert and I made our way to the turnstile and I tapped my metro card on the sensor.  The trips left display read 0 as I passed through.  This didn't make sense, but we were already late and had a group of 10 students waiting for us to meet them at the Ohotni Ryad station, so I let it go, assuming that I had just bought a 28 day pass and that's how those passes read on the scanner.  In my minds eye I can now see the babushka's evil smirk as I disappeared down the escalator...

("MWUHAHAHAHAHA!)

It was only after my trip through the surprisingly boring Museum of Natural History (mostly a collection of neanderthal arts & crafts) when I tried to enter the metro again did I actually discover the truth...

I had been bamboozled by a babushka.  There were no trips left on my card and I had to borrow my friend Suzanna's.

My classmates and I returned to the station where I purchased the ticket only to find the lady who sold it to me was long gone.  I assume she dematerialized into a cloud of bats and flew out of the skylight.  We tried telling the other women working the till what had happened, but our crude Russian speech only served to aggravate them until one of the cashiers started yelling insults at us in rapid succession and we decided we had better give up. I left the station with my friends mocking me, down 15 bucks with one trip to a caveman craft fair to show for it.

If you are out there, babushka, reading this with your little shawl wrapped around your head, eating mushroom soup to warm your ice-cold heart, just know that I'm still here and I'll be looking for you every time I step on a metro and if I find you there will be retribution.

Advice to everyone else, never trust a babushka until they've given you a reason.

Peace,

DH