wolfandquail:
We set up an interview time, but I wasn’t told where to go. About an hour before the interview, I was sent the following email:
Dear Gillian
YOUR MISSION
Please go to [XXX] metro station, exit the station by the stair, not the escalator.
Take a hard left down [XXX], your first right will be [XXX], a couple of yards down and you will find yourself at [Name of a Wine Store].
Tell the man in the store you are friends with the crazy Russian artist and you would like to buy a bottle of his favourite wine; thank the man graciously.
Exit the store with a skip in your step and take a left down [XXX], your second left will be [XXX], please wait outside of No.42 for further instructions at 6:15.
Never before have I felt so much like the star of an action movie. On exiting the metro, every person I saw was suspect: I was sure they were all taking notes on my facial expression and posture and radioing it back to headquarters; on several occasions, I was convinced that I was being followed. I kept especially close tabs on hipsters carrying notebooks and men who looked like they could be Russian.
Sounds like little has changed from when I lived there :/