Chapter Eight: Troubles, accidents, and other nonsense.
So, we were once again left to the mercy of fate. Our friends Sasha, Maxim, and Lida were working steadily as cashiers at Kroger and would often drop by to see us, or we would visit them. I forgot to write about how we all met. As you remember, we arrived a week and a half earlier and had no idea where they would settle when they arrived. And so, when this trio arrived, they sent us their address via email. We, not yet having bikes, set off in search of them. We wandered for a long time because, for some reason, we went in the wrong direction right away. Finally, after somehow reaching the necessary address not far from the ocean (a group of nondescript two-story gray houses) and finding their apartment, we didn't find the people we needed. After sitting around for a while, we realized we needed to go to the beach. Naturally, our guess matched our expectations: the boys were splashing in the water with shouts of joy, and Lida was watching them from the shore. That was our reunion, and the six of us headed to check out their place.
Imagine a room for three the size of a kitchen in a Khrushchev-era apartment, and a slightly smaller kitchen with a shower and toilet, and you will understand our reaction. It didn't compare to our palace at all... so, after sighing and gasping, we all headed back to our place.
It turned out that we lived on the same street, just that their house was on an avenue, and the difference between us was 12 of these avenues. By bike, it was about 7 minutes. That's how we connected.
After Subway, we didn't lose hope that we would soon find an even cooler job. We wandered around various establishments and hotels just like before, but there were enough workers everywhere. But we weren't particularly upset, because happiness isn't in money, but in the fact that we were in a paradise, we had no worries or anxieties, we had enough of the pennies we earned to live on, and every day at any moment (or even several moments:) we could leave the house and go sunbathe and soak in the ocean. Every day we tried to go somewhere, see new places, visit all sorts of pawn shops to gawk at American antiques (I especially remember the gas pump contraptions from the 50s-60s, and the slot machines). When we were there, it really felt like we were in another time; the spirit of that old America didn't seem foreign to us at all, we learned a lot and rejoiced when we found something familiar: "Oh!!! Do you remember this?...".
We loved Walmart. It's not just a very big store. It's like a second home. We loved rummaging around there, looking for something new every time; of course, we couldn't afford to buy everything, but that's not a problem, we had enough for the most important things, and we'd buy the rest later when we earned more. At first, we often went to the library; I wrote to my mom, and Sashka was on VKontakte. Later, when we installed Skype on our PDAs, we would go to the beach near the hotels and chat with our relatives for hours for free.
I will remember Independence Day forever. On July 4th, around 10 PM, we went to watch the fireworks at the pier (it takes about an hour to get there by bike), stopped by the trio's place on the way, and found one mechanic who had somehow managed to get sick and categorically stated that he would stay home. Lida and Sasha had already left for the pier on foot long ago. As we approached the pier, the crowd gathered on the beach and near the hotels became larger and larger. Many had prudently brought beach chairs and were waiting in anticipation of the fireworks. We got as close to the action as possible and fully enjoyed the spectacle. You can't say the fireworks were as rich as on a Russian New Year or at some industrial Russian city's day. Everything was quite modest and restrained, and when it all ended, thousands of Americans all along the coast clapped joyfully, and we realized that the holiday was a success and now it was time to go home. Out of habit, we were overcome with anxiety, as if it were a Russian holiday and a crush was about to start, ubiquitous drunken fights, bottles being smashed on everything in sight, police, ambulances... But... nothing. Thousands of people were slowly, quietly, and non-chaotically heading home. If you could look from above, this would be the picture: the movement of huge flows of people was controlled by an invisible traffic controller. I initially thought there were police cars somewhere, but no! The flows of people regulated themselves! A group would pass, the group behind would stop and let the group of people walking in the other direction pass, and so on. It's as if four drivers at an unregulated intersection quickly drove in the necessary directions without creating obstacles for anyone, without having made any agreements between themselves. In short, we got back in practically the same amount of time, and even managed to stop by Kroger for bread.
(to be continued....)
