This page reflects the last week of my stay in the USA. I'm writing this without specific days because I spent half the time doing nothing and only did something for two days. Anyway, in short, for those reading the diary after 6 days or who didn't understand anything: I worked for 3 weeks and my boss owes me $1340. He doesn't intend to pay, but I don't want to give up, and I want everything to end with a happy end for me in this country. So, read on.

I called the guys and asked how much he owed them; some answered, some didn't want to talk to me at all. I needed backup for when I talked to him. I called Sanya, he said the boss would be at the site tomorrow and wasn't going anywhere; he paid him to tell me that. I'm not mad at him, he needed the money and I'm just a student he's known for 2 months. I called some other guys and we decided to meet up and deal with him. Since my money was important to me—I'm not Moses and I'm not going to ask for salaries for 40-year-old men—I needed them for one interesting thing. I had the number of a lawyer who agreed to help me; if I called him, he would talk to the boss, which would mean a court summons and legal fees for him. But that was just in case. I also had the number of the agency that monitors illegal employment; it's a huge fine for an employer, and I know a bunch of illegals there and have proof they work for him. When I talked to him about the salary, I recorded the conversation on a voice recorder—at least some kind of evidence. Armed to the teeth, I went to meet him.

I arrive, see his car, and the guys start showing up. Sanya and Tolyan joined us. The boss comes out, talking on the phone, and seeing me with the crowd, he hangs up with wide eyes. "Well, hello Sergey," I walk up to him. "How are things, how was the vacation? I see you came back early to pay the crew?" "Vanka, you're playing with fire, don't start trouble here, you pup." "Maybe it's you playing with fire? Sergey, you have 2 options right now: 1st, you give me the money right now, we walk to the bank together, you withdraw it from your account and pay me, $1340, or the other option, but I advise you to take the 1st." He looked at Sanya, whom he had paid—what happens between them is none of my business. "Haha, what other option? You're a nobody in this country and can't do anything, and I'm a legal resident, so get lost back to your homeland." "Well, I didn't want to do this," I take out my phone. "Look, I'm calling the agency that doesn't like it when illegal citizens work right now. Look at this crowd of illegals, Sergey. Next, I call the lawyer and summon you to court where you'll pay me my money + moral damages for the late-night conversation—I have the recordings, don't worry. You understand what kind of wave is coming for you." He went silent and made a face like he was about to smash my head in. "Fine, Vanka, let's go to the bank." "Uh, no, we are WALKING together to the bank, is that clear? I don't trust people like you." We walked 3 blocks, he withdrew the money and gave it to me, and as a parting shot, I said, "I hope when New York floods in 2012, you're the first to die," and I headed to the subway. Anyway, nothing interesting happened after that; I went home with the money, where I really like it. The End