Party Town!

So I was out getting my drink on pretty much all weekend.  We were down in the bar areas, and they were PACKED with tourists.  You couldn’t get a drink anywhere the lines at the bar were so long.  Fucking tourists with their backpacks and video cameras, coming up to you asking where you were from, and then expressing astonishment that you lived here.  It’s all Olympics, all the time.

No, I’m kidding.  Seriously.  It was fucking deserted.

The security here is so tight that here we are, a mere four days away from the Olympics, and there were only a handful of tourists here.  The security is so tight, visas so difficult to come by, that I’d honestly be surprised if I couldn’t go to one of the events and just buy a ticket at the gate.  There is no way that this city is going to fill up enough in four days to fill the Olympics. 

We went to one of the Russian clubs we always go to.  We got there around 1 or 2, when the place is hopping.  There was a single couple out on the dance floor, other than that it was deserted.  We had half a ber then walked down to another Russian joint.  More girls on the dance floor, but still only a fraction of the number of people who would usually be in there that time of night.  It’s fucking WEIRD being here now.

You can see the spies everywhere, men standing in the shadows and in alleys, with wireless earpieces, just watching everyone and everything.  You can’t have fun in that kind of environment.  I mean, those of us who live here can, because we’re sorta used to this sort of thing.  The tension is palpable, but we know how to navigate the system.  But the tourists?  They’re at the mercy of the people in the blue and white track suits who are positioned all over the city to provide guidance and help. 

They’ve had these little clocks all over the city listing the number of days, minutes, and seconds until the opening of the games.  Hopefully, once they hit zero, the clock will reset itself so that we can all look forward to when it ends.