Strange

It's not that I could have done any better it's that, it was just weird. Last night was the going away dinner/party for the Russians. The Russian docs have been i n town for their week and they flew back to Izhevsk this morning Standard time. The Russians like to party a lot and they have a party whenever they can think up an occasion to have any kind of celebration.

Last night's celebration was to be a dinner party. The event last Saturday night was a nice dinner party. Lots of cold cuts caviar vodka wine and various soft drinks. The dinner was held at a local apartment complex common house jut right.

Last night was totally different. We got the email early in the week the event was to be held at Totem's a private club on the North West side of Salt Lake at 7:00 P M. I have been to Totems in the past almost twenty years ago. A mix of country western and national forest: lots of logs. The place just seemed odd to host an event for our Russian friends. Dianne had become close to these folks in the events she had been instrumental in putting together and wanted to see them off. I was indifferent but in my goal is becoming more social I put forth the effort to go.

Totems is much larger then I remember. In a side of town I rarely go in daylight even less after dark, Totems is a private club meaning you can smoke and order liquor with your meal should you desire. However Totems still has the appeal of national park as and cowboys. It's a dressed bar, albeit a big bar, is still just a bar.

We were almost the first to get there , a couple of the doctors had been dropped off and were sitting in the midst of three rows of tables with table clothes and place settings. This was at 6:55pm and by 7:10 there had assembled a small crowd. A lot of hand shaking and hugging went on and ogling , as the group tried to take in the “opulence” of the logs, beer signs and working class folk sitting at the bar.

Sergey, one of the local docs hosting the Russians, gave a review of the week's events—every thing seemed to drag. I was getting hungry and there was no sign of food. Finally it was revealed that the dinner was to be prime rib, no ordering off a menu.

Two waitresses, which I later realized were bar maids, tried to take the salad orders—they were monstrously slow and Dianne and I were on the end of the end table. All during the pre-meal and now the meal there was a rumbling coming from what to be a curtained stage. I knew the sound it was band getting ready to perform and sure enough half way through the wait for dinner they started their mix of country rock and good ol' rock and roll. Good old LOUD rock and roll. Needless to say any verbal cultural exchange ended.

The prime rib was cold by the time I got mine I has to ask for steak knives three times before the knives finally arrived. I wolfed mine down like any survivor would thankful for the protein. We stayed till 9:30 then grabbed our coats and booked feeling safer each mile South and East we traveled. We had done our duty but boy was the duty weird.