Held up

I had to sit down right away and write another installment of the Petersburg news. This episode comes to you on the downward slope after a pleasant evening in a café with a few friends. My house is located slightly to the east of Nevsky Prospect and the particular café I was in. It was a 24 hour café, simple in décor and with a common warm cabinet with various appetizing foods behind a glass panel. I stuck to the old Klassicheskoye pivo (beer) which was absolutely fine. We chatted about Christmas, and other stuff as well, which possibly because of recent circumstances has rather diminished in my mind.
We left around 2 in the morning, and went our separate ways, with one friend even hailing a ‘private’ cab, basically a standard car and driver combo which can be procured for a slightly lesser price than a standard taxi.
I struck out on my own, as per so many times in the city. I’ve been around the city a lot in the early hours, and never felt threatened. This occasion was no exception. I strolled back along a canal from Nevsky- Fontanka, as I believe- and was probably wondering at the time whether I could grow to like the city. A group of young guys was ahead of me in the street, five as far as I remember, and they walked towards me in a quite inoffensive manner. I was initially interested by the way they seemed to be coordinating their behavior while walking separately, in two clusters. Not wishing to be paranoid I remained on the same side of the street, although being cautious to watch them closely- a rule when in the city at night. It was something new to see that the first three guys to pass me stopped, and turned to face me. One of the next two guys enquired in the usual way as to the possibility of a cigarette, but I was not forthcoming. Not wanting to give away my foreign status I gave a very brisk ‘nyet’ and continued determinedly on my way. These guys seemed disinclined to take no for an answer, and apparently cigarettes was not the only item on the agenda. As rapidly became clear from their questions, a mobile phone and wallet were also high on the list of trophies. There was something about their manner that betrayed their lack of preparation- either because of amateurish coordination or lack of commitment to the plan. They didn’t seem to know what they wanted to do, and thus I was not overly worried by their demands for a phone and money. They asked where I was from, and I replied, as so often, in German. This is a hobby of mine with late night prowlers, and usually confuses and wrong foots the questioner. It has worked consistently in the past and this occasion was no different. I fed them the line ‘I just spent all my money in the pub’, and they didn’t seem to pushy about the wallet. I repeated that if I had no mobile phone there was nothing they could use. One guy then began patting my coat to locate any potential materials in pockets. Not willing to sacrifice my wallet ( and one remaining bank card) I deflected his arm before it reached my pocket. Another guy then tried the same approach, from my right. The first youth then grabbed my arm and seemed half serious about holding onto it. I was, however, entirely serious that he would not. When I disengaged his arm as well they stepped back. Upon some unintelligible remark from one of the guys (which in retrospect may have been ‘pistolet’) one of the group nearest me reached with an exaggerated flourish into his trouser waistband and not particularly smoothly withdrew a pistol. I glimpsed the weapon in the shadows in the second it was visible, and I am almost certain it was a gas gun, packing at most 5 foot pounds of energy. It could have been even more harmless than that, because the time between it being withdrawn from the trousers and being stuck in my neck was quite short. This being a new experience for me I was in some way enthralled. I was sure the group were not really serious, so I didn’t panic. I stepped back as a reflex reaction to relieve the pressure on my throat, and gained a little space from the main group. I did until just a few moments ago remember more clearly what I said in these short moments. The gist of it was certainly that I had nothing that they could take, and I very clearly remember saying ‘calm down’ in the calmest and yet most assertive voice I could muster. I also pointed out that they would get nothing from me as I had nothing- an obvious but useful phrase. A few seconds later, after a clear inspection of the street, they put away their gun and stepped back. It occurred to me that this would be an expedient moment to depart. I set off in my original direction, towards home. They seemed up for following me, and made some ludicrous threats about the mafia, but I insisted that it was not necessary to follow me as I retreated backwards across the street. There were a couple of cars approaching which I knew would put them off any further aggression without good cause, and I was careful not to give them a cause. I made sure of their direction before continuing in my own direction, more surprised than shocked, and at least a little bit pleased.
There is a chance that I was very lucky. It was not a bad area, and the traffic along the road would have been a potential safety line. It was certainly quite an experience, and one I will not rapidly forget. A pistol pressed into your throat is a very unique sensation. You never know ‘til it happens. Mind over matter. Life is getting a bit extreme here. I must chill out a bit……..

My recent blogs have taken on a surreal character. I would like to stress that I do not exaggerate or fabricate. Everything you read is real.