Since childhood, I dreamed of a motorcycle—you know, those fast, beautiful, sporty ones... The first time I went abroad, I didn't earn anything except for a camera and a laptop, like almost everyone else. When I came the second time, I knew exactly what I was there for. From the very beginning, I tied a thick nylon string with a knot around my wrist so it would rub and remind me—and it did rub, and it did remind me; my hand was practically torn to blood every day (the nature of a loader's job). Oh man, how I walked, dreamed, searched through ads, and checked them out on the streets—MY DREAM! The price tags for decent bikes started at $5,000... Anyway, I finally did it! I bought it, I bought it, I bought it!!! A thousand times yes, I bought a motorcycle. Not without the help of friends, of course, but that doesn't matter. It went like this: the guys I worked with, Bulgarians, noticed a motorcycle in a garage at one of the clients' places we were moving, with a 'for sale' sign... Everyone knew it was my obsession, so they called me right away and told me... By the end of September, I had the necessary amount :) and here are the details of my first meeting with my girl: I arrive in the Lower Bronx to Miguel Pagan (I remembered this name forever—he was the one who gave me my dream...)... a short conversation and... the garage doors open, and slowly but surely she appears—looking at me with a calm, steady gaze, evaluating me... :) HONDA cbr600rr 2003, 3000km mileage, condition—PERFECT!!! Do you understand, do you understand???? I bought her. I must admit that before this, I had never ridden motorcycles—only once in my life, on a friend's 'Ural'... I sit down, start moving, riding, riding, riding... How do I stop? I rode around the block twice, not knowing how to stop... Anyway, we settled up, left, and I was supposed to mail the license plates to Miguel the next day. He gave me his helmet, and we put one on Alesha that we'd 'borrowed' from a Harley on the street. We're riding, Miguel warned me that after sitting for a long time, the battery charge was low, so we stalled about 11 times on the way home, a couple of them in Upper Harlem—guys were shouting threateningly, getting up from their porches toward us... Alesha quickly jumps off and pushes us, we keep going... Well, that's it, we arrived. After that, daily rides, on night highways, at over 200 km/h :) and enjoying life.

At the warehouse, at work, there was a motorcycle belonging to one of our clients :) I unscrew the plates, tape them onto my baby... My happiness didn't last long! One fine day, when I had already parked her at the warehouse and was leaving work, Anya calls—'...at the police station, they got me for the cosmetics' :) I take the bike and rush to the station at full speed. On the way, I caught up with a girl on a Gixxer, we had a great race, and after a while, having pulled about 15 meters ahead of her, I realize it's my turn—a smooth exit from the highway to a city street, I turn sharply, slow down, turn my head to the left to wave goodbye to the girl, I signal, I wave, I TURN MY HEAD BACK TO THE FRONT!!! A JEEP IS STANDING AT THE INTERSECTION, A MOMENT, BRAKES, IMPACT... I smashed their window and dented the back door, people run over, the driver is yelling at me, I get up, my head is spinning, blood on my temples, barely understanding what's what, I realize a patrol will arrive soon, I cut the plates off the motorcycle (into my pocket, while no one is looking). The patrol arrives, puts me in the car... Fills out the paperwork, I still remember—this jerk shoved my passport through the cell slot, rolling it up to a diameter of 1 cm... Ambulance, I refuse help, the cops 'generously' drove me to the center, I went into a store and bought pills for the headache...

She spent some time in the impound lot, then I sent the wrecked bike to Finland on a ferry, I went to Finland twice for her, but that's another story, more on that later.

Here is what I want to say—go, dream, and strive with your whole being for your dream, and it will come true... I worked, of course—but most of the time spent in NY, I walked and drank, drank and walked... And I achieved it, I achieved my dream. And the fact that I crashed it—well, that's probably my punishment. Dream, go, and achieve your dream—everything is possible in the States.