My first weekend in Moscow I participated in the ‘Last Stoppers Club’, essentially a bar crawl for expats. Once a month, one metro line is chosen, a random bunch of expats (and some locals) meet in the subway and head to the last stop on that line, and then find nearby bars. It was a great time, and I met some really cool fellow expats. However, the locals looked more questionable as the night went on. I think they were looking for some sugar daddies. But I digress…
The unfortunate part is that the metro closes at 1. A little early, no? So at 12:30, we pulled a Cinderella and made a mad dash for the subway trying to get home before we all turned into pumpkins. We made it onto the first train with no troubles, but when we got off to transfer trains the station was eerily empty and in our drunken state we had trouble finding the correct line. As we heard the announcement for the last train, we finally made it to the train (the last train running that night), and there was one sole rider on board. Apparently he had more to drink than us. He was passed out cold on the floor. No movement, no sound. His legs and arms were sprawled in different directions, not curled up in a ball like I am when I pass out. Seriously, he looked dead. But we just left him there.
One Girl's Wanderlust Adventures 